


The Horizon

by SilyaBeeodess



Series: Clocks and Spirits [3]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 77,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22416691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilyaBeeodess/pseuds/SilyaBeeodess
Summary: When Hat Kid accidentally finds a waypoint to a spiritual realm through the Twilight Bell, she makes it her latest mission to explore it despite all warnings in order to find more of her missing Time Pieces. Ghosts and spirits are nothing unique to her anymore, but the dangers that surround this strange, new place-both new and familiar-may be more than she can handle.
Series: Clocks and Spirits [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613260
Comments: 36
Kudos: 119





	1. Prologue

It was almost always impossible to tell what their ruler was thinking. Nevermind the crescent mask that stretched a wide, permanent smile across his face and hid his eyes from view behind two, patterned sockets; he usually carried himself with a sense of control that was hard to shake. Nothing beyond an exaggerated movement or change in tone ever revealed his true feelings. He was usually pleasant, but that unknown worried them all the same. The pair of Dwellers watched in silence as he continued to stare beyond the open balcony, mulling over their news.

At last, glancing back at them over his shoulder, he asked, "And you're sure she was alive?"

The first ghost nodded, "Absolutely! And the goats saw her too!" He then hung his own masked head low, "She left, but she took some strange hourglass with her. We… we didn't stop her…"

The other specter followed suit, "Did she steal something important? W-we didn't know what to do! We're sorry…"

He turned to face them, gliding in a pacing fashion for a moment before shaking his head. "No, you were right to stay out of the girl's way as much as possible. The fact that she made it to this realm at all, however, interests me."

Withdrawing a key from his coat pocket, he moved over to a long, aged, wooden desk and fiddled with a lower cabinet hidden near the bottom right side. Light flared out as soon as he opened the compartment, an hourglass shape much like the one they told him about fitting snugly in his grip. He showed it off pointedly.

"I'll want a word with the goats, but for now, gather a few volunteers to add to the watch around the Twilight Bell waypoint," he instructed, "I suspect she may come back. If she does, try not to engage her: Just alert me as soon as she arrives."

Taking the order as their cue to go, the pair nodded once again before spiraling out of the room—fading through the door with a wispy trail of energy billowing after them and then dissipating seconds later. The masked ruler watched them go, then returned to his place on the balcony to stare out at his peculiar kingdom of spirits and illusioned starlight. It was too far to make out the ornate, rectangular pillars, channels, and towers that made up the goats' portion of the realm. He knew its direction though, even if he only stood looking out at a seemingly endless void beyond his own territory.

Nothing was ever ordinary there, but the past several weeks had been curious to say the least. First was the sudden appearance of Time Pieces that many of the spirits claimed to have fallen from the sky—not that he would explain what they were to his subjects, for he understood the immense power they wielded. Then came the inevitable chaos that followed, spirits darting in and out of the mortal world to search and fight one another for them. Even some the dimmest of creatures, which knew only of the magical energy the hourglasses resonated with, went after them—the whole mess really was keeping him busy. And now a living, breathing child had appeared, seemingly for the Time Pieces as well.

Yes, she definitely would be back. For all of the trouble the mystical objects were causing across the realm, he was looking forward to meeting her. _Do we even have an expert on magical relics?_ During his rule, he'd obtained every sort of ancient text to study these kinds of things for himself, but he was only one person and, while many souls passed through, sadly, few of them stayed. But no, he was getting ahead of himself… First, to meet the child and see what she wanted.

His gaze fell downward, onto the village below. It felt pitifully empty, but the sight of the souls carrying on about their business—appearing as tiny, glowing orbs from his place above—gave him comfort. He had many scouts stationed across the realm to keep a look out for malevolent spirits and other dangers, but here was a haven for the lost. Here was his home.

Flowered vines grew along the wall to the left of the balcony, shimmering with the bright candescence much of the realm's vegetation possessed. Hovering closer, he noticed that one of the buds was late to bloom. With a touch of his finger, he watched with a calm joy as it slowly unraveled for him, its petals splaying open with a grand flourish—twinkling with magic. So long as it was properly nourished with the right spiritual energies, it would hopefully remain as it was for a good, long while.

If the Time Pieces were a threat to this place, they would be found and disposed of. He just didn't know how he'd manage that. With any luck, the child could explain that for him. If not, well, he'd still keep an eye on her. Until she returned though, all he could do was wait.

* * *

" _Access granted."_

The telltale chime of the door's locking mechanisms clanking open as the path to her ship's observation deck made Hat Kid grin with success. Honestly, she didn't have much use for the space—it was reserved for stargazing or for a co-pilot to double-check their surroundings from a separate vantage point if the ship's low-range scanners were malfunctioning—but restoring power to another section of the vessel always made her feel like she was reaching some checkpoint that marked her that much closer to home. Stepping forward, she gazed through the wall of glass in front of her and out to a sea of stars. None of them were her home planet's, but at least she could imagine that one of them was.

There couldn't be too many Time Pieces left. She'd already found a lot, nearly finishing her search around the Alpine Skyline before an alarm had sent her running back to her ship. A trigger had gone off announcing Mustache Girl's intrusion, but she hadn't made it back in time before her rival had swiped all of her Time Pieces. The entire planet thrust into chaos, Hat Kid was given no choice but to fight her off and get them back—along with any hourglasses the other had to their own collection.

Really, the alien should've already repaired her ship's security system. It did an ok job at _tracing_ intruders so far, but little to nothing in the way of stopping them. She might have to divert power to other parts of the ship to get it done, and she'd always been a better pilot than an engineer, but she would try to debug the system when she got the chance. The only reason Hat Kid hadn't already done it was because she was scared of it accidently hurting someone who popped by while she was away, like Cooking Cat often did. Maybe she could ask the feline for her bio-signature as a precaution…

Walking along the glass, peering down at the planet below, Hat Kid accessed a nearby control panel. Connecting to the vessel's main computer, she double-checked the latest readings: She still had to visit a place called 'The Metro,' some of the readings indicated that a few Time Pieces were moving along the ocean—possibly on a ship—and there were a handful of other, scattered locations she'd yet to run a complete scan over as well.

What interested her most right then, however, were the odd, weak markers that fluctuated in and out of existence. The scans were never perfect—they typically only gave her a general idea of where the Time Pieces might've landed and the fewer there were in one space, the weaker the signal—but this was different. Hat Kid blamed it on the planet's strong ties to magic and its spiritual realms, some of the Time Pieces having fallen into them. A similar incident had already sent her combing through Subcon to make sure she hadn't missed one...

Something had happened in the Alpine Skylines, however, that made her second guess how to go about finding them. There were Dwellers there, specifically along the path to the Twilight Bell. She thought they were Dwellers anyway, as the goats certainly didn't wear those masks. Unfortunately, she couldn't ask the specters much of anything—whether or not they kept quiet on purpose, they hardly spoke to her—but it did raise several questions. She was only made all the more curious when she'd finally made it to the Bell and ringing it spirited her away to some, strange place that wasn't a part of the physical world.

Hat Kid had made it out ok with a Time Piece in hand, but still didn't have much of a chance of asking anyone about the Bell or where it took her. All she could really gather before chaos ensued thanks to a sentient, mind-controlling plant was that the Nomads revered it. It was both a physical and metaphorical connection to their ancestors, used for special occasions like ceremonies or when a goat neared the end of their spiritual journey. What happened to her, according to them, was nothing short of a freak accident that they begged her not to risk of again.

It wasn't that she wanted to go back, but she didn't think she was going to be able to keep that promise.

It was just like she thought. One of the weaker markers had gone out, meaning she'd collected its Time Piece, and when she isolated her ship's scanners to the Alpine Skyline there weren't any more of them showing in the area. The signal had to have been coming from the realm gated by the Twilight Bell. And if that was the case, how many more Time Pieces might be lost there…?

The child took a deep breath, closing out of the system. Again, she looked out the glass and down at the planet. Wherever the Time Pieces went, trouble seemed to follow. The rifts were a constant reminder of the kind of disasters they could cause, but the warped world Mustache Girl created had brought that reality in full perspective. Whatever was waiting for her—ghosts, spirits, monsters—she'd be ready. Either way, she had to get those Time Pieces.

She'd… _borrowed_ , one of Snatcher's books on magic and some blue potions in order to recreate them. She felt she was able to mimic the recipe well enough with her Brewer Hat and make a sticky, stable version to coat her umbrella with. Considering how well it worked on the ghostly raccoons in the Twilight Bell's world, she _hoped_ it would work with other types of spirits.

She already decided to sneak through the Alpine Skyline at night. The goats welcomed her there and were more than friendly, but she couldn't risk them trying to stop her from reaching the Bell. Even if the first time had been a 'freak accident,' she'd have to find a way to somehow recreate it.

Out the door, through the attic, and back to the main deck, Hat Kid smiled when she spotted Rumbi chirping as it swept across the floor in circles with delight when she entered. She leaned down to give the droid an affectionate pat. During her space travels, it'd been her only companion, but sadly she hadn't done much with it since she'd lost the Time Pieces. Any moments to celebrate small victories were often cut short. Rumbi was being a trooper for her sake though, busying himself during the long periods of isolation by always making sure she had a nice, clean ship to come back to.

"Hopefully this trip won't be much longer, buddy," she said, "I can't wait for you to meet everyone back home." Now that she thought of it, Rumbi hadn't even seen to her home planet: The robot was a gift to her that she'd built on the journey. Her room back home wasn't the tidiest. She'd have to remember to check it before she let Rumbi inside so it wouldn't vacuum anything of hers up by mistake.

Rumbi contently buzzed at her in answer before continuing with its work. She stood, walking over to where she had laid her backpack by the captain's chair—ready to go. Had she packed everything? The young alien looked over her supplies: Umbrella, badge box, a few toys, handheld scanner, her Dweller mask, extra hats… She'd already secured the last Time Pieces she'd collected, so everything seemed to be in order except for—

Hat Kid snapped her fingers with a thoughtful grin, _Snacks!_ As scary as it was to go back through the Twilight Bell—even without the goat's warnings, the girl felt that she never was supposed to find the place—she wasn't sure how long she'd be wandering through the realm. She'd try to stick close to the exit if possible, but it was still better to be safe than sorry. She didn't plan on exploring anything with an empty stomach.

Shrugging on the back, she raced over to the ladder and climbed onto the main deck's second level, cautiously peering through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. Cooking Cat was already onboard, having offered to play lookout for a while in case Mustache Girl tried to come back and steal her Time Pieces again; however, she must've been in another part of the vessel. Good: That meant that she wouldn't notice if she helped herself to some dessert.

While Hat Kid appreciated that she tried to take care of her and give her plenty of good stuff to eat, the feline had taken a habit of placing her cookie jar on the cupboard's second shelf—out of her reach. It wasn't too difficult to sneak it back down, especially when she was eventually left to herself each day, but it was an effort she preferred to do without. Who said cookies were bad? They gave her plenty of energy! Apparently, Cooking Cat didn't think so though. In their former place in her fridge, she often found fruit instead.

Climbing up to balance on the lower shelf, Hat Kid flipped her umbrella around to hook the handle around the top of the jar, carefully inching it toward her. She'd stumbled back down the first couple of times: Now, the balancing act was practically second nature. Tongue sticking out in concentration and at the thought of the sweet prize above, rocking forward on the balls of her feet, she reached up with her free hand to pull the jar to her chest as soon as she'd tipped it over the edge of the shelf.

Her victory, however, was short lived. She'd barely gotten her feet back on the floor when one of the kitchen door's swung open and in came Cooking Cat with a box full of foodstuffs from storage. She didn't even look surprised as she caught the child with her hand in the _literal_ cookie jar: She just gave a knowing smirk and shook her head in a chiding fashion.

"You can't help yourself, can you?" the feline asked, placing the box on a nearby table before striding over with a hand out. _Give it here,_ the motion silently ordered.

Pouting, Hat Kid relented, glad enough that she didn't try to take away the cookie she'd already freed from the container. In case she was having any second thoughts about it, the child took one, large bite from the treat for good measure. "I'm a growing girl," she excused herself, still chewing. "And it's _my_ food. Why can't I eat it whenever I want?"

"You can when you start taking better care of yourself," Cooking Cat replied. Hat Kid felt like explaining that she thought she was doing a pretty good job of that already, given all of the dangers she'd survived on the planet so far, but she didn't feel like it was an argument she was going to win. It never was, not at least where all things involving the kitchen were concerned. This was Cooking Cat's domain, and she ruled over it fiercely.

That wasn't enough to make her relent. She watched the feline set the jar alongside the box, as though she were placing it on guard. "I'm going to be gone all night: I _need_ snacks!"

Given how the other had taken to handling her meals, of course she'd told her. Granted, she'd kept the part about traveling to a spirit realm a secret… Although she couldn't stop the alien, there was no telling how she'd react and she didn't want to worry her. So, as far as she knew, Hat Kid was just returning to the Alpine Skyline for one more, good thorough check.

A hand on her hip, wagging her finger proudly, Cooking Cat moved over to the kitchen counter. "I know, I've already prepared some things for you. It's not what I'd call a perfect dinner, but it should do until you make it back."

As the tabby showed off a sealed lunch box, Hat Kid walked over curiously. Of course, she'd packed her own meals before, but she was typically back on the ship in time for whatever Cooking Cat made her. As the box was placed in her hands, she opened it up and smiled to see what was inside. Nothing extraordinary, but plenty of her favorites: A peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut neatly into triangles, an apple, _two_ juice boxes to go with her already filled water bottle, and a bag of trail mix. She picked up the zip-lock sack to inspect it further, beaming, "There's chocolate!"

Cooking Cat nodded, a bright smile on her face. She always seemed happiest when people showed appreciation for her food. If it weren't for the fact that the Mafia would likely try to it shut down, she'd probably have opened her own restaurant by now. It's just what she was best at. "Just a small sweet to keep you going. Every meal is best with a little dessert anyhow," she then smirked once more, "We just have to be sure that sweets don't make up your _whole_ meal, right?"

Hat Kid got the message: Eat the other food too. Without really answering, she took the lunchbox and leaned over to give Cooking Cat a quick hug. "I don't know how long I'll be gone, so don't stay up too late."

She chuckled at the girl's own chiding, returning the gesture, "If I'm not up and you're still hungry, just wake me. I'll be here until you get back."

Releasing her, Hat Kid backed up and shuffled the lunch box into her backpack. She almost ran out the door before pausing to give one more look of longing at the cookie jar. She stared at it for a second, then at Cooking Cat, then at the jar again before giving the feline a begging look. With a roll of her eyes and brush of her hand, the latter relented. Hat Kid swiftly grabbed three more cookies before darting off a second time, bidding her goodbye with an energetic wave.


	2. Act One: Beyond the Celestial Sphere, part i

Hat Kid bundled her cloak tighter around herself. The mountain air was always a little chilly, but it was especially cold at night. She wasn't as prepared for drop in temperature as she thought she'd be when she beamed down to the planet's surface.

Her ship wouldn't warp her anywhere it deemed too dangerous or unstable, so—just as she'd done multiple times before—she darted through the Alpine Skyline by the long, winding banners that connected its various islands. As she neared the Twilight Bell, she glanced up at the night sky. She was used to seeing countless stars during her space travels, but… Well, there was just something different looking at them from the world's surface, the way the colors of the sky shifted under the pale light of the moon and the atmosphere's swirling hues of blue. Then there was the shimmering aurora that danced over the Alpine Skylines, painting the scene above her in beautiful waves of greens, purples, and pinks. It was amazing…

The colors of the sky reflected across the Twilight Bell's silvery form, making it seem even more ethereal than it already was. Hat Kid looked behind her to make sure she wasn't followed. Most of the village was asleep, but the warm glow from the windows of the scattered cabins and longhouses tried to beckon her back—like she was gazing at a safe harbor across a sea of clouds. There was no need to second-guess herself though. She was determined to do this.

Now, however, the girl came to a problem she hadn't yet considered. For the most part, the bell was too heavy for the wind to ring it alone: Once she used it to travel to the spirit realm, the noise would probably wake up the entire village. Hat Kid already knew she was going to have to make multiple trips in, but the goats would undoubtedly try to stop her the minute they found out how she failed to heed their warnings. The thought of how hard it would be to try to come back later made her pause.

"Reluctance doesn't really suit you," a calm voice murmured to her right, startling her. Eyes wide, she spun on her heel in a rush of panic. Sitting as still as the stone beneath him except for his usual, twitchy, mannerisms, she didn't notice the figure until he spoke. Peering into the darkness, however, she relaxed a bit when she found that it was only the Badge Seller—their legs crossed under them, resting forward against their walking stick with both hands.

They were a cryptic character, somehow appearing wherever she went with a store of badges ready for purchase. She didn't think they were following her as she always had a chance of just bumping into them like this, often crossing _their_ path first. Sometimes, she wondered if there was actually more than one of them: A tiny group of Badge Sellers that independently travelled around where they pleased. Taking a breath to clam her racing heart, she quietly asked, "What are you doing here?"

They simply shrugged, "I could ask you the same thing, young one." But they didn't, and they didn't bother giving her a real answer either. Instead, their masked gaze lifted to face the sky above. "A lovely night, isn't it? You won't find a better place in the whole world to stargaze than right here."

With a huff, Hat Kid shook her head before stepping close to their side. They played a neutral role no matter what events transpired, but despite this seemed to always know more than they let on. Sometimes they'd give her a hint or two on something about a place—partly thanks to her being 'such a good customer.' If they were feeling chatty, then she hoped it also meant they didn't mind clueing her in on where she was headed.

The vendor continued, "Tell me, what do you know about this planet's constellations?"

"Not much," she admitted, once again tugging her cloak further around her shoulders to block off the night breeze. She tried to turn the conversation in her favor from there, "I know one. The first goat that found this place followed the stars to do it and then turned into a constellation."

That's what the 'storybook' she'd obtained from the Alpine Skyline's time rift anyway. Although, give that the purple rifts always connected to someone and how surreal the rift had been, a part of her wondered if it was something more like a memory _of_ a memory—something passed down and given new life by the original teller's descendants. Otherwise, she just couldn't make any sense of how the rift had formed on its own. Not to mention that real stars were just flaming balls of gas, so the tale itself was impossible.

The Badge Seller turned to look at her, appearing to smile behind their mask, and gave her a single nod, "That's the simplified version of the story, yes."

When they didn't explain what they meant, Hat Kid raised a brow and pointed over to the Twilight Bell. "Does the long story have anything to do with where that goes?" It had to. She remembered something involving the bell anyhow, even if the storybook pages she collected didn't go into much detail about the process.

"Yes," they replied in a steady tone, "Long ago, the goats came from a dying land. One of them had found favor with the celestial beings that rule the night sky, who took pity on him and his people. So they led him here to establish a new home. The goat continued to grow in wisdom, and before his death left to join the spirits in their realm, a place simply called the Horizon."

Strange as it was, Hat Kid was able to piece the new information with what she'd personally gathered. It made sense, the way the realm was designed: It looked like a celestial place, stars and all, even if she didn't think she'd seen any of the spirits that the Badge Seller tried describing to her. There _had_ been goats though, and it fit what she already knew about the spiritual realms. The child had already seen first-hand how the magic that flowed through them could alter a mortal being—to the point where they were hard to tell apart from the spirits themselves.

"The Horizon…" she echoed softly, brows furrowing, "Is that why the goats don't want me there? Is it like I'm trespassing?" Spirits could be pretty territorial at times—like how the fire and swamp spirits could be over their own domains in Subcon. The latter had been so extreme, in fact, that they had tried to drown her just for trying to reach the well.

"Well, yes, but not in the usual sense," they answered, "The Horizon isn't connected to the physical world. It's a place entirely of its own making, on a separate plane of existence where all varieties of spirits can reside. For mortals, however, it exists as a kind of limbo. That is why it's so dangerous for you to be there."

The young alien felt a shudder course down her spine. _Limbo?!_ She'd entered some kind of afterlife?! No wonder there were so many ghosts and she'd had such a bad feeling about the place! Now a part of her almost wished they hadn't told her. Despite her initial reservations, going in blind now seemed like the better decision if only because the idea of it earlier had frightened her less.

But there were Time Pieces to be found and no way for her to back out of going. A disbelieving curse slipped past her lips, "Peck!"

The Badge Seller's tone turned scolding, " _Language_ , young lady."

She winced, "Sorry…"

They stared at her a moment longer, then leaned up, rolling their shoulders to stretch stiff muscles. "I wouldn't worry. You've come this far, haven't you? You're pretty impressive, for a child. I'm curious to see what you'll do next."

Hat Kid pursed her lips at their choice of words, but a part of her was thankful for a small reassurance. That's right: This might be on another level, but it was to things she'd already experienced. Her adventures in Subcon Forest had given her a lifetime's worth of spooks. What was a few more? Out of habit, she readjusted her hat before walking away. "I'm going then," she said, tightening her grip on her umbrella to steady her nerves. She glanced at them one last time, "Unless you have any advice for me?"

"Look before you leap," was their only response.

Given no hint to what they really meant by that, she motorboated with a sigh and looked up. The inside of the Twilight Bell was even more weird to look at during the night than it was in the daytime. It looked like an empty, starry void, like she was starting out of her ship's viewport instead of at the bell's interior. Even the bell's clapper seemed to partially disappear within it.

With no other ideas, she repeated what she did the first time. Hat Kid fired her hookshot at the clasp dangling above, the device pulling her off of her feet to swing in the open air. She kicked out with her legs, thrusting herself back and forth until she'd gained enough momentum to ring the Twilight Bell. Its loud, steady tolls echoed on the wind, and for a moment she feared she was doing something wrong and that she'd be spotted before she could figure it out.

But, no: As soon as she's released the hook and landed back on her feet, she watched the world begin to distort around her in a vortex of swirling blues and greens—just as it had the first time. 'Freak accident' indeed! Hat Kid looked over her shoulder, noticing the Badge Seller watching her spirit away. Before they too were distorted by the haze, they dipped their head low in a silent goodbye.

When her vision cleared, she found herself back in the twilight realm.


	3. Act One: Beyond the Celestial Sphere, part ii

The sky was as dark and starry a void as she remembered from last time. It didn't seem as if there was a true sense of night or day here, not that it surprised her. She did, however, feel a sense of unease that she didn't have during her first visit—not initially anyway, and then she had been in and out of the place before the feeling had fully settled over her. Now—with part of the wonder that had gripped her before somewhat muted by the familiar surroundings—it was becoming difficult to ignore.

Hat Kid eyed the tall towers, shimmering falls, and broken, floating columns that encompassed her, then froze when she caught sight of the ghostly apparitions that snaked around a cluster of pillars in the distance before diving out of sight. Their red color was a striking contrast from the pale blues, greens, and whites, making it impossible to camouflage themselves. She'd seen red ghosts among the Subcon Dwellers, but there was something off about these, their forms taking a slightly darker tinge and—even more rattling—their matching masks practically faceless, as if someone had sanded off all of the intricate details they commonly displayed. Even the eyes had been smoothed away, disturbing her more than the ghosts themselves could.

These Dwellers seemed to be unique to this place, with abilities that countered the rest of their kind's. While others could materialize spiritual barriers and pathways, they could only _break them down,_ leaving behind a distorted haze of red lines wherever their power reached. Not even her own mask's abilities could reverse their work.

She dug it out of her backpack now, holding it in front of her with both hands. While the child loved her usual top hat, there just wasn't as much of a use for it here as there was for the mask. During her first trip to the Twilight Bell, she'd kept it on for almost the entire time. Now that she'd be doing a deeper search through the area, it was needed more than ever. She clasped it over her face and put away the other.

The marble structures scaled deep into the abyss, their lower levels either fading from view or breaking apart at the base in a collection of floating rock. There had to be a safe route down, one where she could at least see where she was going. Hat Kid scanned the edge of each platform with a careful gaze before going on her way.

Stopping before she crossed the first spirit bridge, the young alien noticed that the red Dweller stationed there last time was missing. Maybe it was one of the two she'd seen earlier? The difference gave her enough pause to take another look around. Nothing else was out of the ordinary. There weren't any newly revealed platforms, it was just that the ones already placed there were able to manifest completely when she used her mask's abilities.

Hat Kid approached the curved monolith—it looked almost like a horn—jutting from the center of the sun dial carving that shaped the bulk of the platform's surface. It was decorated by a trio of the wide, patterned ribbons that were randomly scattered across the area either tied to columns or draped from the various structures like banners. Tracing her fingers along the intricate, smooth grooves in the rock, she then placed her palm against the stone.

The monolith shifted: Not by more than one or two centimeters, but enough that she shuffled in surprise as it scraped along the ground and threw her weight forward. It was like some kind of switch! When she tried to move it again, however, it barely wiggled in place. She grimaced: If she was one of the goat's she could probably move the piece with ease.

Her gaze was drawn back to the ribbons thoughtfully. Taking hold of the longest one, twisting it to strengthen it like a cord of rope, she pulled the two halves into a simple knot and braced the fabric in a tight grip close to her chest. Hat Kid propelled herself in a burst of speed to one end of the platform, digging her heels against the ground to keep from flying back as the ribbon snapped taut. It took all of her effort to pull and she tightened her jaw against the strain. Little by little though, she heard the rock drag in place behind her until the still air was pierced by a resounding _click._

The ground shook under her. Letting go of the ribbon and sidestepping around the dial, she watched with wide eyes as it suddenly cut itself open along a thin incision in the stone. Each marker along the clock dipped low, one by one, to form a winding stairwell around the circumference of the monolith—deeper and deeper beyond her line of vision.

Still with amazement, she didn't move under she heard the final step clank into place somewhere far below. Hat Kid beamed, huffing from exertion. Eagerness mingled with a child's curiosity brushed away any hesitance she might've felt. Each drop was a small jump for someone her size. The girl raced down the large steps with a hand against the wall for support.

A part of her wondered what was the point of having a secret passage, or even gates or bridges for that matter. If only ghosts lived here, then couldn't they just float around and fade through everything? Then again, the Dwellers' homes in Subcon Village—different as they were, fashioned from the stumps—had doors. The only exception was Snatcher's large tree. Maybe it was because the spirits mostly needed them to get around? She didn't know. Their realms were never quite like the rest of the world, acting with their own set of rules.

And if this was a type of spirit realm, or limbo, then what kind of rules did it go by? What sorts of spirits would she see here? The thought both piqued her interest and made her nervous. She'd been to the fire spirit's territory before, where everything was permanently washed in undying flames. Would there be any of the foxes here too? Or maybe she'd eventually she one of the living constellations that the Badge Seller told her about.

Minutes passed in thoughtful silence as Hat Kid made her descent, at last reaching the final step with a wide exit spitting her out on a craggily ledge. While most of the place seemed almost frozen in time, this area had clearly seen a lot more wear. The marble was fractured and broken, much like the other bases she'd seen from a distance. Still, there was a path of uneven slopes and floating rock leading even further into the abyss.

It was the only direction for her to go besides back the way she came. With a glance up, she noticed just how far she was from the Twilight Bell's entrance: The towers above seemed to fade beyond view, swept in the stars. From what she could tell, there weren't any goats or Dwellers nearby either.

Hat Kid leaned over the side of the ledge, her mouth twisting as she hawked up a wad of phlegm and spat over the side. It dropped into darkness and no matter how hard she tried to see or hear where it landed, it was no use. All it did was guarantee that she had a long way to go.

A few water droplets trickled against her scalp and she lifted an arm to block them off. Right, there was a channel above her too. Craning her head to peer around the side of the stairway, she noticed the made-made waterfall slide across the marble before propelling into the shadows as well. She thought she remembered something about following waterways if she ever got lost, but she was pretty sure that was only in the wilderness. Nevertheless, it gave her a bit more encouragement to move onward.

Hat Kid leapt from shelf to rocky shelf, moving slow at first to avoid slipping on puddles and then with the rapid, well-practiced fluidity she was used to. Granted, she was also used to spotting the ground below… _As soon as this search is over,_ she thought to herself bitterly, taking a running jump off one of the ledges to land in a crouch on one at least five meters below, _I'm staying away from the mountains for a while._ The sea sounded nice, so maybe she'd keep looking for the Time Pieces there. Any way that she could keep her feet on solid ground.

A green haze flickered before her, but the child didn't notice it until she dropped down another two meters. It was one of the Dweller Raccoons, as she called them. She guessed it made sense that animals had souls, but she didn't know they could turn into ghosts. Then again, the animals on this planet were far from normal. The spiders were huge and moved with a kind of strategy, the crows made an effort to be mean, and the raccoons could levitate and slept in pajamas.

This one was dreaming, curled up in a ball, until her sudden presence woke it. Although she needed to activate her mask's abilities anyway to jump over to the next ledge, Hat Kid weaved around the creature as it dropped to the ground—attempting to crush her out of surprise and instinct. She used to lash out before they could attack when she'd first had to deal with them, but after a while she realized that they didn't actually mean any harm. Any time they woke up, they'd just look around in a daze before falling back to sleep again. She didn't want to hurt them if she didn't have to.

She made it beyond the spectral platforms before her mask's effect ebbed, catching her breath and looking up at another glimmer of red speeding above her. It was another of the faceless Dwellers, although this time she was able to keep track of where it went. Gliding like a shooting star, it zipped somewhere into the depths. Good: Maybe that meant she was headed the right way.

Something built up in her throat and Hat Kid released a strangled cough. The air seemed thick and she stayed like that for several seconds until the feeling passed. Even after facing Queen Vanessa's ice, the chilly mountain air, and the Alpine Skyline's strange, purple flowers, she hadn't gotten sick. Even if she did now, she was determined to fight through it.

She leapt over the next raccoon she came across, rolling in the air before surging to the next floating stone. As soon as her feet touched the surface, she felt it quake underneath her. There was no choice but to jump, but she didn't immediately see anywhere she could go! Hat Kid released a panicked yelp as the rock gave way underneath her. When her eyes locked on a ruined piece of column, she threw her body to it for safety. The marble was so smooth that it was hard for her to find purchase. She skid across it on her stomach, wrapping her arms around its jagged left side. Her feet flew ahead of her, her body swinging around as she held on with all her might.

She only relaxed after her momentum ebbed away, leaving her daggling. What jarred her more than the collapse was the fact that there still was no sound from below. There would've been a noise if it crashed on something. What if she was basically walking down into a bottomless pit?

 _No going_ _back_ , the alien reminded herself. She looked around and spotted another green shimmer around a wider, more stable pillar. Reactivating her mask's abilities, she watched as a wrap-around walkway manifested before her. The jump over to it wasn't too bad, but as she ran across, she came to a dead end. There was only a violet, ghostly barrier that lead inside the pillar. To pass through it, she had to temporarily deactivate her mask yet again, leaping up so that she wouldn't fall and tossing her body beyond the purple haze within a matter of a second.

Her foot slipped: The ground angled sharply and she fell on her back, sliding down a narrow tunnel. She spotted another viridescent glimmer, but relaxed when it took a spherical shape. There were pons below here— _lots_ of them! She must've stumbled upon a hidden cache, and she couldn't resist gathering them before moving on through another opening that spilled her back out among the floating rocks.

By now, Hat Kid was well beyond the spectral city above with carvings and statues inspired by the goats themselves. There were a few runes—she wished she could read them—etched into the stone now and then and the occasional, red ribbon still guided her path; however, overall, the designs had gradually become more simplified. It gave her fewer footholds and she looked down wishfully, hoping to find some other, stable structure coming into view below.

There was no such luck, although she did spot a peg protruding from one of the stones. It was a little far, so she had to take a running leap away from the ledge she was standing on to dive over to it and get within a close enough range to fire her hookshot. Metal clanked against metal as it caught the peg in a firm grip. The girl swung in the air for a bit before readjusting her momentum to toss herself at a slight angle over to a lower platform. She continued down with long jumps between breaks, covering her mouth under her mask as another small cough racked her.

Balancing along a column that levitated at an almost perfect, horizontal line, she stretched her arms and peered down again. After the long climb it seemed too good to be true, but she'd finally stumbled on solid earth. The craggily landscape rolled in an unnatural way, breaking apart further into the abyss in one direction and arching in the distance as a blurry curve, like she was gazing at it all the way from space rather than from however far she still had to go to get down their safely. Her journey so close to an endpoint, a new wave of energy fell over her and she picked up the pace.

Hat Kid ran along the length of the column, kicking off a nearby slab of marble to ricochet onto another, wide rock further down. While her leaps and rebounds were less precise than her usual movements, she was able to quickly make her way to flat ground. Heavy dust curled at her feet upon landing, as if the area had long gone undisturbed. She coughed a third time as it billowed around her, then looked around.

There wasn't anything that caught her eye. Dusty and empty, she may as well have been standing on a small, long-abandoned terrestrial world. The more she observed her bleak surroundings, the more she began to believe that she really had made a mistake coming down here. That was, until she spotted another familiar ribbon. There were more further ahead, creating a kind of path. It was as though someone had placed them there in advance, just for her.

The trail led Hat Kid over the rough terrain until she stood overlooking a wide, gaping canyon. Beyond the barren wasteland, however, was a sight that took her breathe away. There was a small town, similar, but different to the home of the spectral ghosts she'd left behind. It seemed to be crafted from the same kind of rock, but was constructed like an ancient, mythical kingdom nestled within a valley of stars. Its high walls were a polished white and there was a deep forest of the realm's candescent flora stretching as far as the eye could see to the right of it. On the left side, overlooking the town and fashioned from the cliffs of a nearby mountain, was a shining castle—its towers built along the slope in a steady incline that appeared to reached for the cosmos.

Another wave of red snapped her back to attention. Not a ribbon this time, another Dweller. Was this where they lived? Hat Kid tried to follow after it, calling for help, but whether it heard or not it sped ahead across the canyon. There was no easy was for her to cross it and her whole body seemed to protest at the thought of another long climb. Maybe there was a bridge somewhere, or an easier way around. The child backpedaled, hoping that the ribbons would lead her along another path.

As she turned around, she skid to an immediate halt. She wasn't alone.

Without her noticing, somehow a masked ghost had crept behind her. However, he was a far-cry in appearance from the Dwellers she was used to. First off, all save for a translucent tail, the phantom had a humanoid shape. He was dressed with a professional, yet bold look that made him stand out from the muted colors of the area and his own, pale blue flesh. He wore a scarlet inverness cloak over a xanthic vest decorated by a black trim and brass buttons, and a cravat was tucked in around this neck. Shackles partially hidden by the sleeves of the cloak were chained to his wrists, masculine hands with claw-like fingers hanging relaxed at his sides.

Most jarring though was the mask itself, which seemed to meld with his skin in both color and design. It had a crescent shape along the crown, its features plastering a wide, eternal smile on the man's face. Each eye socket was different, one patterned with diamonds and the other like a target. Twin lines ran parallel from each, and from the bottom of the mouth, to the sides of the mask. Teal blue fabric tucked along the cloak's collar hid the back of his head from view.

Beyond the subtle rise and fall of his levitating, he didn't move. Instead, he greeted her with a faint, inspective tilt of his head and an almost breathy tenor, "Hello, child. You seem lost."

Hat Kid didn't notice how tight a grip she had on her umbrella until the phantom spoke, breaking through her surprise. She forced herself to relax and tried to play dumb, "Why's that?"

"Well, you're a little… _early_ , to be in a place like this," he explained with careful consideration to his words, lifting a finger to his mouth in thought—though it was impossible to tell what he was thinking behind the mask. The shackles on his arms faintly clinked together as he moved. "You'll have to forgive my curiosity. We don't get many visitors among your kind."

All at once, another coughing fit hit her, this worse than the previous ones. It must've been all of the dust. She needed to drink something. She bent forward a little, cradling her stomach with her free hand, as she tried to let the feeling pass. She sniffled and a faint, sharp pang coursed through her head.

The ghost watched her in silence until the fit had calmed down a little, then gave a steady shake of his head, "Oh dear, perhaps you aren't too early after all. I should've guessed that the ether here wouldn't be suitable for you. Where are my manners…" He gave her a small, polite bow, "I am the Moonjumper, and I live and breathe this horizon. It is my home. And now, I think it's best if you come with me, child."

The alien stifled another cough, "What do you mean?" She regarded him cautiously. Her experiences with ghosts and spirits thus far hadn't been the best. Most had tried to kill her and, young and positive as she was, she wasn't naïve enough to trust just anyone.

"We need to get you something to eat—something from _this_ realm," he further clarified when he noticed her almost retort, "This place isn't connected to the physical world and you've strayed far from any waypoint. The ether is incredibly strong here and you need something to counter its effects."

He held his hand out to her in a guiding motion, but she took a step back and brushed it aside. "I'm not sick," she said, although it was more for her own assurance than for his, "I'm fine."

His shoulders drooped in a casual or bored kind of sigh, "Oh child, I don't think you understand how grave your situation is.

"If you don't eat something from this world soon, you will die."


	4. Act One: Beyond the Celestial Sphere, part iii

Given few other options, Hat Kid had little choice but to follow Moonjumper. The ghost took her by the hand and the air around her seemed the change from its usual stillness to an active force. She felt it tug at her body, levitating her as he gently led the way across the canyon. She tightened her grip in a moment's panic, but then her reservations were put on hold as a smile crept its way onto her face beyond her control. The sensation of flight was exhilarating: Of course, she'd sailed around in her ship plenty, but this another experience entirely.

The two moved across the sky as if they were weightless, and the child tried to get a good look of the area before they landed—mapping it in her head. There was no gradual transition from the barren waste to the iridescent forest, the borders between the two distinct. Beyond those borders, the woodlands themselves stretched off into the distance, flowing into the town and strange, distant landscapes that blurred along the skyline. Passing over the marble buildings, Hat Kid could make out the shapes of Dwellers below—the red ones being the most common with a few others here or there, all carrying on their way.

Unfortunately, her view of the village was confined only to its outskirts as Moonjumper pulled her along in the direction of the castle. Gliding down to a low balcony, he helped steady her as the air changed once more. It cut off and she landed on her feet with a slight bounce before letting out another cough. Moonjumper then motioned for her to follow him and floated inside.

Hat Kid paused to get a sense for her new surroundings first. Peeping around the wide, arched entryway, side-stepping a thin sheet of curtains to glance down a long hall, one of the first things she noticed was how empty it seemed. It was a remarkable building—walls perfectly smooth, the floor decorated with alternating patterns in the stonework, and the ceiling a canopy of lapis lazuli that seemed to reflect the stars with its sporadic gold flecks in an ocean of blue—but thus far there wasn't much beyond that. Other than the curtains, there was only a foyer table with a vase a trio of the realm's glowing flowers set within it to decorate the space. The only lighting came from the flowers themselves and the light pouring from the world outside, casting the hall in a dim glow. It gave a place a lonely, somewhat impersonal feel.

Moonjumper's coat stood out against the castle's soft colors. She caught up to him before he turned a corner and faded through a sealed twin set of doors. When she entered, she was glad to see that this place—if only slightly—had a bit more of a homey touch. It was a dining room with a wide window, furnished by only the long table, a large set of chairs, and a china cabinet. Nevertheless, the window had an impressive view of the mountainside and the cabinet was filled with an assortment of dishes and teacups.

"There's still plenty of time," he murmured, casting the girl a sidelong glance as she let out another small cough, "I'm guessing you like sweets, yes? What about tea?"

She went with her standard, "Do you have any cookies?"

He gave her a faint nod, then, opening the cabinet, he waved a finger at the china. Hat Kid raised a confused brow until she watched with shock as some of the tableware rattled and clanked inside. A small tea set flew out of it on its own, darting past Moonjumper and swirling around her before going through an open entryway on the opposite side of the room. The tea cup was the last to go out, tapping against the edge of the wall and fidgeting as though it were in a confused daze before following the rest once more.

Hat Kid giggled, a sparkle in her eyes as she asked with childish wonder, "Are they magic?"

Counter to this, the ghost explained in a calm, state-of-fact way, "'Possessed' would be closer to the truth. They're inanimates, a type of infantile spirit." As Hat Kid helped herself into a nearby chair, he hovered into the place next to her at the end of the table. "It's rare, but when items have seen a lot of care or have been used for a very long time by their owners, they can take on a life of their own. They don't understand much beyond how they're treated or their original purpose, but they can still be helpful."

"Can anything turn into one?" She imagined some of her older toys coming to life. It was the kind of thing a lot of children dreamed and Rumbi would have a playmate when she was off-ship.

"Yes, although it happens to some things more than others: Dolls, kettles, clocks," he gave her a pointed glance, "umbrellas…"

She winced a bit, hugging her own little, blue umbrella to her chest. That sounded less fun… If it ever came to life, she doubted it would appreciate being used as a weapon. She hoped he was joking.

It was hard to tell if he really was, but he chuffed, amused by her reaction, all the same. At that time, a small plate returned with a trio of cookies followed by a porcelain jampot, both sliding in place in front of her along the table's surface. She didn't know what spirit food was supposed to look like, but it didn't seem any different than ordinary food. They were the strangest looking cookies she'd seen though, a little puffed up, almost like bread, but harder. They looked kind of like sugar cookies, but with a more golden hue.

She took off her mask to make it easier to eat. Taking a bite, she was relieved that her headache and sniffling went away almost immediately. The taste was fine, but she found she liked them much better with the jam. The young alien looked back toward the doorway as the teapot and cups soon followed—with little, bowl-like saucers so she'd be less likely to spill anything. It looked like the dining room connected directly to the kitchen, but when she tried stretching her neck to get a better look, she didn't see anyone inside. Did the inanimates do everything by themselves? If not, then why hadn't she seen any staff yet?

Her curious thoughts were set aside as the tea made a show of pouring itself in front of her. Shuffling on her knees in her seat to reach for the cup, she blew on it before taking a deep gulp. Hat Kid didn't really like it much—at least this kind wasn't sweet enough—but the warm liquid felt good to her throat and helped subside the chill that never quite left her when she was in the Alpine Skylines.

The teapot tried to pour for Moonjumper as well, but he placed a hand over the cup and it swiftly withdrew, setting itself down between them. After a moment's pause, he said, "I'm impressed that you made it down here. A few of my subjects spotted you when you arrived. I had them follow you as a precaution, but most of them are terribly shy. If I can't find someone to escort you back to the Twilight Bell when the time comes, I'll go with you myself."

Hat Kid looked at him in surprise and swallowed before asking, "You knew I was coming?" Then she remembered the red Dwellers. Was he talking about them? The idea of being watched like that was more than a little discomforting, but she could guess some of his reasons. At least he was open about it.

"I have eyes everywhere. All types of souls and spirits pass through, so it's best to stay vigilant." His tone turned inquiring, "As I mentioned before though, your kind—the living—are rare visitors... What brought you here?"

Hat Kid gave herself time to consider how she answered by finishing off the cookie in her hand and taking another large gulp of her drink. Although she was grateful for Moonjumper's help and he seemed friendly, she still didn't really know him. It didn't help either that the mask made it nearly impossible to read him. He didn't carry himself with the Dweller's meek air or the Badge Seller's cryptic wisdom, but with a firm control over his own person that was almost creepy. How much could she say?

The ghost rose from his seat to glide over to the window. When she hesitated to reply, he pressed further with his usual calm, "Could it be that you were looking for something?" His back turned, she didn't see what he had at first as he drew something from his coat. "Were you looking for this?"

She almost choked when he then looked back around and showed off a Time Piece shimmering within his hand. He didn't react, but she got the feeling that he flashed a true, knowing smile behind his mask. Pushing herself up to lean over the table, she fumbled with her words, "That's…! Yeah, that's mine…"

Was he toying with her? He knew what she came here for, had brought he into his territory, and had all of the pieces on his side of the board, but had waited until now before saying anything. What did he want?

Moonjumper stared at her for a moment, then examined the hourglass with a small twist of his hand, "This is quite the treasure you have. A powerful relic for someone so young." Floating back toward the table, facing her from the opposite side, he set it down with his hand still on top of it—about half a meter out of her reach. "Spirits have been gathering them through every waypoint, fighting over them. It's caused a lot of problems here."

Eying the Time Piece, she winced. If that was the case, then she was lucky that time rifts and other anomalies hadn't been spawning all over the place. It also confirmed some of her suspicions, that there were others lost here. Hat Kid forced herself to settle back down in her chair, biting her lip as she struggled with what to say next.

Her stomach spoke for her, gurgling loudly. It seemed to take even Moonjumper aback as he tilted his head at the noise. "Do you need something else to eat?" he offered.

"I brought my own dinner," she replied hurriedly, breaking eye contact and shuffling off her backpack to rummage through its contents. Embarrassed, snapped out of the tension of the previous moment, she didn't even ask as she dug out her lunchbox and set it on the table. Opening it, she spotted the extra juice box and cookies she'd brought along. Maybe she could use them as a kind of peace offering—to get Moonjumper to open up a bit more and make it easier to persuade him to hand over the Time Piece.

Since he'd shared his food with her, it also didn't hurt to return the favor. The young alien drew both out, setting the cookies on a clean plate and scooting the juice box across the table as far as her arm could reach. "Try some, it's tropical punch. And my friend Cooking Cat made these."

The phantom just stared back. A few seconds passed as Hat Kid busied herself with her sandwich, watching him from behind her lunchbox with a subtle, upward gaze. Soon enough, he picked the juice up in his free hand and looked it over curiously. He seemed to read the back of it before setting it back down and uttering a soft, "Thank you…"

Well… that didn't go exactly as she hoped. Not wanting to reenter another tense period, she cleared her throat and pressed him for answers this time. "I don't mean any trouble. You said that spirits took some of my Time Pieces, right? I just need to get them all back and then I'll leave."

"These aren't toys, child. They could be as dangerous in your hands as much as they are in the spirits'," he glided back into his seat, "Besides, I can't spare the manpower to go search for them. The Horizon is a big place and my subjects are few."

She pouted at his first declaration. She _knew_ they were dangerous: That's why she was trying so hard to get them back. She had a duty to guard them. A determined gleam filled her eyes next. "I can look for them myself, so you wouldn't even have to do anything," when he continued to stare hard at her, she pushed further, "Maybe I lost them at first, but I know what I'm doing. I've even fought spirits before."

"You?" he questioned in humored disbelief.

Hat Kid puffed up a bit, "Ghosts anyway… In Subcon Forest."

Again, he fell silent, but the way his shoulders went rigid told her that she'd gotten to him. The haunted place was pretty famous on this planet, so it made sense that people would know about it here too. Eventually, he shook his head to himself, then looked back at her with a long sigh, "You must be very brave for a little girl. And I do need someone to take the Time Pieces from the spirits…"

"Right? So we can help each other!" Now that he'd given her words some consideration, she wouldn't let up. She shifted in her seat to better face him, hands clenched in front of her with enthusiasm, "Just point the way and I can get the Time Pieces, then they won't be a problem anymore. You won't even have to do anything."

He thought her offer over, his fingers briefly and silently tapping on the table's surface. In her mind, what was there to think about? If he didn't want the Time Pieces—which, admittedly, was a first for someone who knew exactly what they were capable of—then he had nothing to lose. Still unable to read him, she tried to put on her own poker face, taking another hearty bite of her food as she waited.

At last, Moonjumper slowly answered, "Alright then. You can look around, but on one condition: For as long as you're here, when you're not on your rounds, you'll stay in the village. Facing the ether is one issue. It's also easy to get lost if you stray too far and I can't always have someone escort you to a waypoint either."

Although he didn't say it, she imagined it'd be a way for him to keep an eye on her better too. Hat Kid didn't bring it up, instead questioning, "You keep talking about 'waypoints': What are they?"

"They're the Horizon's only connection to the physical world," he explained, "Some spiritual realms exist within it as distorted blips in reality, like those for spirits heavily connected to nature. The Horizon, however, can only be accessed at specific locations scattered across the mortal plane. The Twilight Bell, where you entered, is one such waypoint."

The child nodded in understanding, then glanced down at her nearly finished meal. "Ok… but I need to go back, at least for now. I didn't pack enough and my friend's waiting for me."

Once more, Moonjumper rose from his seat, "We'll see to it that you're looked after, but I understand. I'll call for someone to send you off now and when you come back tomorrow, they'll help guide your way back."

"I don't know if I can make it back easily," she admitted with a sheepish expression, "The people at the Alpine Skyline didn't want me to come here again. If they found out I did, they might try harder to stop me."

He gave her a casual, pacifying wave of his hand, "Then I can have someone come get you. It's not a problem." Looking over the Time Piece in a second's delay, he brushed it over to her side, "I'll trust this one to you for now. Stay here: I'll be back soon."

Hat Kid eagerly scooped the hourglass into her hands, then watched as he passed through the same door they'd entered. Left alone with her thoughts, she quickly noticed how quiet everything was. There was no sound of anyone waltzing through the hall or any bustle from the outside world. She'd heard of the phrase 'silent as the grave,' but even Subcon's gloom felt more active than this. The silence quickly got on her nerves. She tried to keep still—finishing her food and then packing away her belongings, swinging her legs from the edge of her seat—and in the end had to get up and move around.

First, she checked the kitchen. She confirmed no one was inside and—much like everything else—it was polished and sparse. It had every necessity, but not much was laid out beyond a few pans hung neatly on a rack above the oven and large jars set in formation along the counters. There was also a push cart off the one side by the door, ready for use although she felt it didn't see much of it.

She looked back behind her in time to see the chinaware rise again, all save for the plate of chocolate chip cookies Moonjumper hadn't touched. The dirty ones hovered past her and into the kitchen sink, awaiting cleaning, while the unused cup and saucer returned itself to the cabinet. She watched the them before moving to the window next.

Unfortunately, she _still_ couldn't see much of the town. The view wasn't at the right angle, so the most she could make out were the tiled rooftops of some of the buildings. A flicker of green caught her eye in the other direction and the child squinted in order to make out the transparent, ghostly figure sitting on a boulder at the end of a wipe slope. When she made it out, she pursed her lips in dismay. It was a Dweller Crow.

 _Why aren't you in bird purgatory…?_ Were they there just to torture mortal souls hanging around in limbo? She got the feeling that, much like their living counterparts, they'd make it their job to torment her anyway. Nevertheless, Hat Kid guessed that they wouldn't be the worst things she'd encounter in the Horizon.

Something else caught her attention in the distance, and she nearly recoiled when she saw it. She thought she saw the figure of a woman with a blue cloche hat, her back turned and a pale-yellow scarf partially hiding some of her features. Before she knew it, the child stood centimeters from the glass, desperately trying to make out the person standing there. The woman was farther than the bird though, and gradually became harder to distinguish as she walked away.

Hat Kid didn't know how long she watched her for, but Moonjumper soon came back to let her know it was time to leave. When she'd given once last glance back, the figure was already gone.


	5. Act Two: Rapid Charge, part i

It was well past midnight by the time Hat Kid had made it back to her ship, the child falling asleep no sooner had her head touched her pillow. Exhausted from the long day, she didn't wake up until the early afternoon. Nevertheless, it was with a vigor. She still couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding she had about the Horizon, but the curious part of her was eager to keep exploring it.

Besides, what was that saying? No rest for the weary? It didn't seem like she'd have much of a moment's rest if what Moonjumper said about the remaining Time Pieces was true: That all types of spirits had gotten their hands on them. She'd only caught a glimpse of the kind of power they could wield during her adventures in Subcon Forest, but they figured out how to use Time Pieces… Well, she didn't want to imagine another disaster similar to Mustache Girl's hostile takeover of the planet.

The minute she woke up, Hat Kid started packing. It wasn't the first time she'd had to stay down on the planet's surface. There were multiple times where her searches had led to dead ends or she'd simply crashed from overexertion—like in one of Subcon's ruined huts or when she and Mustache Girl scavenged through Mafia Town back when they were still a team. The young alien had even stayed in the fire spirit's domain for a couple weeks. She just wanted to be prepared for anything time. All of her hats and badges were a must. A few different sets of clothes, basic necessities, and toys followed after. She was glad her backpack practically acted as a bottomless pit, or there wouldn't even be enough room for the Time Pieces when she made her way back.

As it was—after she informed Cooking Cat of her long journey and beamed herself down to the Alpine Skylines—she had enough problems. It was just as she'd expected: Although Hat Kid had taken every precaution not to get caught once she'd make it back through the Twilight Bell, she could tell that the goats and nomads were suspicious of her. Even if no one had actually seen her, she'd been the only one prying about it. They didn't accuse her of anything, but it was clear that they were taking some precautions of their own now.

From the corner of her eye, Hat Kid spotted a yellow and white hood poking from around the edge of a nearby rock. It was one of the nomads watching her from afar, this one more obvious about it than most of the others. She acted like she didn't notice, stooping low to pretend to examine a nearby patch of flowers.

The second zipline along the twilight path was down and the goats kept an eye on her wherever she went. Because of this, she was forced to halt midway, searching for another means around. Unfortunately, the islands were pretty steep with little purchase along the sides of them. Eying the distant cliffs, she considered backtracking, but that would mean going all the way to the Skyline's entrance. Even then, there was no guarantee that there'd be another way around. Was there a horn nearby that could restore the zipline? That definitely would draw attention and she didn't want to fight the goats to get to it, but maybe she'd have no choice if it meant reaching the bell.

" _Psst!_ " The alien looked up curiously, first back to the nomad—who quickly ducked out of sight—and then to the rest of her surroundings. "Over here, kid!" It couldn't be one of them, now that she thought about it. The accent wasn't right. The voice sounded young, like a girl in her teens, and had a pleasant softness to it.

At last, she caught sight of a slim, translucent form peering from behind a stone wall, a Dweller with a rich lavender body and a pink kitsune mask. Right: Moonjumper had offered to have someone waiting for her if she couldn't make it back on her own. Looking back over her shoulder a second time, Hat Kid ran over to their hiding spot before the nomad could peer after her once again. In her haste, she nearly shuffled off the narrow edge that met the wall. The Dweller swung something in her direction with her tail and she caught it with both hands to keep herself from falling.

"Whoa there! Not that you wouldn't be a welcomed neighbor, but let's try getting you to the Horizon in one piece," the Dweller whispered in a bout of nervous, dark humor. She helped the child regain her footing. Noticing the twin, dark red cords, Hat Kid's eyes followed them to the piece in her hands—an improvised swing made of thick fabric. She'd had to use it when she'd been carried _to_ the Twilight Bell from the other side the previous night. It connected to a single ring that the ghost had looped around her tail.

Once she'd righted herself, her back pressed against the rock, Hat Kid took a small breath of relief, "Thank you."

"It's nothing," the Dweller replied, still somewhat nervously, "It's what I'm here for, so hop on and we can get moving."

The Dweller shuffled closer to the ledge so that Hat Kid could adjust herself in the swing with greater ease. It wasn't the more secure ride, but it was all they really had to work with. The girl just hoped that they wouldn't be spotted. It was still daylight and she couldn't exactly fade from view like a ghost could—although the idea of how the goats would react if they saw her floating across the air was hilarious. She wriggled in place, one hand gripping one of the cords tightly and the other hanging onto her hat.

As soon as she'd given the ok the Dweller hovered away from the ledge, dipping low to glide out of sight along the usual path. Hat Kid could still see it though, feeling an impish sort of glee as the nomad tiptoed out of his own hiding place and looked around in surprise when he couldn't find her. Weaving through the rocks, both ghost and girl steadily made their way over to the Twilight Bell, the sun darting in and out of the shadows as they moved.

Hat Kid looked down at the sea of clouds tracing her feet and bit her lip. She was used to scaling all types of insane heights by now, but it was also up to her own ability whether or not she made it. She wasn't sure how she felt about being carried, especially as the Dweller fell silent. It left her with nothing to focus on except the drop below them.

She had to start up some kind of conversation, "Hey, are you from Subcon Forest?"

The Dweller reacted with a low hum of surprise, glancing down briefly before returning their gaze on their flightpath, "Why do you think that?"

"You all wear those masks. I've only seen the ghosts in Subcon Forest have them."

"There are other groups of people in the world who have masks like ours," she answered, then paused in a moment's thought, "Well, not _exactly_ like ours… Everyone's got their own designs, and it can depend on the kind of spirits around to base them off of too."

That part made sense. From what she already knew, the masks were primarily used as a way of confusing the spirits since some of them had a habit of attacking or kidnapping people. Although, in death, they wore them more-so in honor of the past and to keep a part of their old selves, the children of Subcon always wore them as a means of protection due to the woodland's high concentration of spiritual energy. She guessed people would tailor them with whatever spirits were attracted to their own areas in mind.

"I _used_ to live in Subcon Forest though. A long time ago…" the Dweller admitted, surprising her. They passed under a low bridge. "My mother and I came to the Horizon because it was safer, and because of our prince. There was just no point in staying in Subcon any longer."

Hat Kid's mouth twisted into a confused frown. Prince? Snatcher was Subcon Forest's former prince: She'd learned that much from the 'storybook' she'd found there. She guessed that Moonjumper _looked_ a little bit like him because of his clothes, but the similarities pretty much ended there. She didn't mention it though, out of respect for her contractual BFF. Apparently, he'd never told anyone his true identity and she wasn't going to spill his secret. He didn't even know that _she_ knew the truth. She never asked him about it, and doubted that he'd give her a straight answer if she did.

Maybe the ghost girl was just talking about Moonjumper as the Horizon's ruler. The alien didn't take _him_ for the type to lie about something like that anyway. She did, however, ask, "Don't you miss the forest or any of the people there though? There are still a lot of Dwellers in Subcon."

She shook her masked head. "Not all of my friends and family… stuck around…" she began with cautionary sadness, as though fighting off a bad memory, "Sometimes I miss the ones that did, but my mother says we can't go back. And I can't leave her alone: We're all we've got."

"Why can't you just visit?"

"It's too dangerous, what with the miasma, the spirits, that shadow guy… And after a while, Mother stopped acting quite like herself. I think it's because of everything we've been through, so I can't leave her by herself like that."

The Dweller faded into silence once again and this time Hat Kid didn't press her for more answers. She was only making the other upset—and besides, they were close enough to the Twilight Bell now. They paused for a minute mid-flight, double checking to make sure they wouldn't be seen before rising up to reach it. However, unless the previous times Hat Kid had made the journey, the Dweller didn't even touch the bell's clapper. Instead, she carried Hat Kid further up within its bowl and—with a bright, blurry flash of light similar to the warping colors the latter had witnessed the other two times—the two were warped back to the Horizon.

The ghost barely waited for her to collect her bearings when the spirit world can into view. The minute they entered, she dove anyway from the phantom goats' home among the 'stars' and down into the depths of the void. Her speed picked up enough to swing the girl back a bit, but she was still careful with her. A little more comfortable now, Hat Kid breathed another sigh and settled in to enjoy the ride. She looked back only once to watch the floating city disappear behind them, then focused her gaze at her travel companion so she wouldn't have to stare into the surrounding darkness as they continued their descent.

When the city came into view, they glided over its wall and through the thin edge of the luminous woods that wove around the stone structures. Unlike where the ghost goats lived, the buildings were fashioned out of brick than large slates of rocks, with grated, tracery windows and smaller columns fashioned more into the actual construction rather than as decoration. A warm, golden light filtered through some of the barred glass, a welcoming contrast to the cold stone and white and blue hues of the outside world. A few of the buildings had towers constructed into the sides of them, like smaller versions of the castle ahead.

The roads beneath them were a mix of cobblestone and dusty earth. They were also relatively empty. As they flew overhead, Hat Kid only spotted a few Dwellers wandering around, most of whom would either duck in surprise or stare as they passed by. The alien also couldn't help but feel that there was something familiar about the town, but maybe it was just the Dwellers themselves. She hadn't exactly gotten a warm reception when she first reached Subcon Village either—except for some of Snatcher's minions, who picked on her as the "newbie."

It was a short way to the castle through the town, although now it seemed a little bigger to Hat Kid than the first time, looking up at it from the steep side of the mountain. The Dweller dropped her off at the end of a small flight of stairs leading to its open entrance. "His Highness said that you could borrow a room in the palace," she explained, "I'm supposed to lead you to it… b-but he also wanted me to tell you that he's busy a lot, so you might need to go into town to get something to eat."

Hat Kid nodded. Although she wasn't feeling ill from the Horizon's ether right now, she didn't want to take any chances by waiting around for it to start affecting her. "Doesn't he have a cook though? Or I could just make something myself."

"No cooks," she shook her head, "Actually, the prince doesn't have any servants… Besides, it's not like we eat much: It's more of a… recreation, for us."

Hat Kid interrupted before she could finish explaining, "I thought you worked for him."

"Me? Oh no, I mean, not really. This is just a favor. He's our ruler, so of course most of us will help him out when we can. He does so much…" As they begun moving up the steps, the ghost continued, "Anyway, I don't think he'd want you in the kitchen alone either, since you're just a kid. Our town's got a baker though, and a few gardeners. You could visit them."

Hat Kid thought it over, a little puzzled. That meant she'd get the chance to explore the town a bit on her own—which she was looking forward to—but the fact that there was no one else in the castle besides Moonjumper was confusing. Well, Queen Vanessa technically lived by herself too, but she froze anyone that showed up and even then still had the headless statues under her command. She also remembered how empty the place felt before. The lack of people certainly wouldn't make it feel any comfier.

Well, this was her chance to stay in a castle, so she couldn't really complain. As creepy as he was, Moonjumper had been nothing but obliging to her too. Turning down the offer would be rude, especially given her search for the Time Pieces.

Servant or no, the Dweller seemed to know her way through the palace well. Other than pausing at a few corners to make sure she was going the right way, she led Hat Kid to the room with relative ease. After that, she gave the alien a meek goodbye and retreated back the way they came.

Like everything else the child had seen, the room—although somewhat big—was sparse. On the right, there was a large, wooden dresser painted a pure white. Ahead, a twin set of curtains that led out to an open balcony just big enough for one person to look out on. To the left was a cottage bed with a simple, blue comforter, although it looked like someone had dropped off a few extra blankets for her arrival. At the foot of it sat a cushioned bench and mason coffee table.

Someone had left a plate with some kind of tart and a glass of water waiting for her too. She wasn't sure what it was made from and it had a strong tang to it, but she pushed herself to eat every crumb of it nonetheless. Munching on the treat in silence, Hat Kid soon became all too aware of how empty the place was yet again. It reminded her of when she first began her journey out in space, before she built Rumbi—except this time she didn't have a TV or radio to drown out the quiet with. She wished she'd thought to have brought a book with her…

That in mind, her next objective quickly became to make the space feel more at home. She dug her dolls out of her backpack and placed them in groups on the bed and bench. Then, she grabbed two of the extra blankets and carefully covered them with each. Even toys got cold: Better that they wait for her in comfort while she worked.

She'd just stepped back to look over them all when she noticed something else on the tabletop, a note written with a precise, if old-fashioned hand:

_I'm sorry I couldn't greet you myself. I hope you're comfortable here. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask the Dwellers or me. More importantly, don't forget to eat or drink regularly or if you begin to feel ill._

_As for your Time Pieces, I'd recommend first checking the Magnetic Field. My watchman think they saw a few of the Lightning Sprites that live there carry one of them off. It's not very far from town, so you should find your way easily. Just be careful: The spites aren't too dangerous, but they can shock you._

_Regards,  
Moonjumper_

Well, if that was true, then things were off to a good start. With little to work with and nothing else to do, Hat Kid figured she'd made herself comfortable enough. If she could go ahead and begin her search, then it was best to get going while the day was still young.


	6. Act Two: Rapid Charge, part ii

It was easy enough to trace her own steps back the way she came. Soft footsteps echoed off the cool, marble flooring as she raced through the halls and out the door, minutes later reaching the cobblestone trails. Again, as she looked over the city, she was struck by a familiar feeling, but she dismissed it and pressed onward.

Much of the foreboding she'd felt when she'd first entered the Horizon had ebbed, replaced by a wide-eyed curiosity toward the strangeness of the place. Much of the town looked simplistic, but also had a mystifying elegance to it that was difficult to ignore. Part of it was because of the sheer awe that the nearby woodlands exuded, but it was also the design of the city itself. Everything was set with neat purpose, to the point that it made her feel like as if she were walking through a ceramic, Christmas village that decorated someone's mantle.

The fact that it felt like she largely had the streets to herself didn't help chase away that vision. True to the shy traits most of their fellows shared within Subcon Forest, the Dwellers that floated around gave Hat Kid a wide girth. A few of them shot their own curious glances her way or stared at her from around the corners of buildings. However few, she also began to notice other ghosts among them. A lot of them weren't fully materialized, mimicking the Dwellers' snake-like bodies without the masks. The ones that were each seemed unique, if out of place with each other. Their figures either ending in ghostly tails or with a pair of translucent legs, she saw an owl in a lab coat, one of the fish-men, and a cat dressed similarly to a detective—who tipped his hat at her as she passed by.

The girl slowed down as she entered the city's main strip. She would have to keep marching forward to reach the forest, but since she didn't know how long she small journey would take, she decided to stock up first. As clear as the streets were, it wasn't hard to find the bakery. Its wooden sign was marked in bold, old-fashioned lettering and the window lined with a small display of different breads. The door was wide open and she let herself inside.

She couldn't smell the telltale air of fresh-baked bread, but everything inside still looked good: Rolls and breadsticks were tucked into baskets and pastries and cakes were set in neat rows on shelves. There weren't any other customers and no one stood behind the small counter. There was just a tiny bell with a sign that read 'ring for service.' The handle fit delicately within the palm of her hand, its gentle chime echoing off the walls.

Soon enough, a red, glistening shape peered around the opposing doorway. A faceless mask with pointed ears stared back at her, emitting an alert murmur. It was larger than many of the other Dwellers she'd seen, hovering a head over her from the other side of the counter as it crept forward. "So there really is a living soul lingering around," he mumbled to himself in a somewhat gruff, masculine voice, "I thought the prince was pulling our legs…"

"Does everyone know I'm here?" She rocked on the back of her feet, shyly ducking her head low. The more Hat Kid caught the ghosts staring at her, the more subconscious she felt about it. At least when Snatcher's minions treated her like the odd-one-out, they were upfront with it—albeit with the thought in mind that she'd just be yet another one of their boss's doomed victims and a rookie to be toyed with by extension. Here, _she_ might as well have been the ghost: A strange, otherworldly apparition to be wary of.

The Dweller nodded at her question, "Not much happens in this quiet place, so you could say you're the latest gossip. I'm just glad to finally have a steady customer for a while."

"Everything looks so good…" she scanned her eyes over the various sweets and loaves. It seemed a shame if the ghosts didn't eat much, even of their own food. Despite the lack of necessity, there was a clear practice in the work. The breads were a crisp, rich gold and the cakes were all unique, decorated with curls of frosting, little flowers, or odd fruits she didn't recognize.

He seemed to stand a little straighter at her compliment, mask raised with pride, "Well… I gotta spend my hours somehow." The baker whirled along the counter's edge, motioning toward the displays. "Take your pick."

After a moment's thought, Hat Kid pointed to a single, ovular loaf and a couple of bite-sized cakes. Surely she could get something more filling later, but she wasn't about to turn down tasty food. Handing over a few pons, she tapped the surface of the counter as she waited for him to wrap them up for her. A thought suddenly occurred to her curious mind, "How do plants for food even grow here anyway? There's no sunlight."

"You probably already noticed, but the Horizon has its own environment, and it works by its own rules," he explained, "Everything feeds on a kind of spiritually based energy instead of a living one. Part of it's the ether that flows through here and the spirits that look after the place. Perfect conditions for its plants, fine for us… if not so good for you."

While she still hadn't gotten the grim explanation on why that was and the topic itself wasn't a thing she fully understood, she could make a few guesses. The miasma in Subcon Forest worked similarly. It too was a spiritual energy, but one that fed on negative forces—keeping the entire woods locked in a perpetual state of darkness and decay. The ether here seemed to play a more neutral role, but made the realm more suitable to the spirits and the dead than the living.

That in mind, something else the baker mentioned caught her interest, "Are the spirits here like caretakers then?" Hat Kid hoped that some of them were nice, at least, since it would make collecting her Time Pieces that much easier. The fire spirits had been kind enough, but lacked the moral understanding to show it. If they were outwardly malicious like the swamp spirits though, that meant trouble.

His hesitation gave her no confidence. At last, he gave her a simple reply, "You see all types. What I really meant were the more… let's call them 'seasonal' spirits." Head perked up, as if a thought just occurred to him, he leaned forward intently, "Don't just go snooping for them, ok? Not all of them like mortals, and it's usually worse if they do."

As he handed over her sacked goodies, she nodded and stowed them away in her backpack for later. She couldn't make that promise, but she did take his warning to heart. Experience demanded that much caution.

With a small bid goodbye, she immediately resumed her journey toward the depths of the woods. In minutes, the soft white glow of its trees and undergrowth surrounded her. Hat Kid marveled at the sight of it all. There were the shimmering flowers like the ones that grew in the Alpine Skyline and the colorful mushrooms like the ones in Subcon. The whole forest teemed with so much light that she doubted any one of the plants could cast their own shadow. As it was, her own was barely more than a humble silhouette confined to a few centimeters around her feet.

Was the forest's luminescence because of the ether too? Moonjumper mentioned that the ether was stronger down here than near the Twilight Bell. If there was a way it was somehow able to seep into the mortal world, it would explain why she saw some of the same kind of plants. It was just that they could only grow in areas with strong, spiritual energies where that kind of leak happened.

Not too long into her trip, she found an old signpost that pointed her in the direction of the Magnetic Field. Along the rightmost path, some of the flora appeared to change, long stalks of grass lit with a golden hue now mingling with the blues and whites. Hat Kid moved to follow it when suddenly a faint, quiet noise broke through her own, busy thoughts. It sounded like singing, coming from the opposite road, although she couldn't make out the words. It was hauntingly beautiful though, like gentle chimes carried on the wind.

She almost considered following the noise before reminding herself of her mission to tear her focus back to the path ahead. She could explore the other road later. Soon the singing went away, replaced the by the soft crunch of her own footfalls along the grass as the trail wore off. The trees began to thin, their vibrant canopy opening up to reveal the Horizon's empty, endless sky. The more the forest broke away, the more the golden grasses multiplied until Hat Kid soon found herself standing in a large meadow of it.

The name of the place made a lot more sense now. Throughout the rolling landscape, sparks wove through the grasses and darted through the air. What few, thin trees dotted the field were split apart or had the bark blown off of them. One of them seemed freshly carved out, its interior burning with a yellow-violet glow. Even the air was charged, some of Hat Kid's hair left standing on-end thanks to the concentrated static.

Keeping back as one of the sparks flew too close to her for comfort, she thought she heard it make a high-pitched giggle. It took two more passes for the child to realize that she wasn't just hearing things, and not long after that to piece together why the sound bothered her so much. She'd heard it before: The noise had ricocheted everywhere within Dead Bird Studios' basement level, coming from the dangerous, electric wires that hooked to the Conductor's and DJ Grooves' various equipment.

She'd been shocked a couple times along those cords—it'd taken some effort not to cry out in pain and blow her cover. However, she'd thought it was because the wires were faulty or not properly insulated. It was so much like laughter, that she felt like the noise mocked her before: Now, she wasn't too sure that it hadn't. Squinting, she noticed another one of the sparks fly over to one of the electrified trees. It was only for a brief second, but Hat Kid made out a tiny, humanoid shape morph from its light. Then, it swiftly curled back into a blinding orb that channeled itself along the branch before taking flight once again.

_I guess those are the lightning sprites…_ Annoying as they were, a part of her was glad she was facing something she was more used to than a new, random enemy. They'd hurt her before, but nothing about them seemed outright malicious. Besides, she'd accidently stepped on a few of them, so she'd already had her fair share of payback.

The Time Piece's own bright light was practically indistinctive from the spirits, to the point that she barely noticed it, only its distant shape giving it away. She froze in a moment's panic, watching as the spirits carried the object—much larger than themselves—by the edge of its rim and tossed it to one another like some kind of toy. She'd seen Time Pieces break before, but the way they recklessly played with it made her internally scream.

The young alien couldn't wait a second longer. Mid-throw, she sprinted for the hourglass at a bullet's speed, missing the catch as one of the sprites zipped above her and snatched it out of the air before she could. It swung the Time Piece in its tiny grip like a pendulum, chiming at her with a teasing, sing-song tone before giggling and speeding off once again. None of the sprites must've been familiar to her: Instead, they just seemed to recognize her as a new player for their dangerous game.

As they continued to mock her and throw the Time Piece to one another, the girl stamped her foot, "That's mine! Give it back: I'm not kidding around!"

If they understood her at all, they ignored her. Soaring overhead, the lightning sprites continued their play and kept the Time Piece far from her reach. When Hat Kid jumped at them, they flew higher. When she charged at them, they moved faster or tossed the mystical tool off to another one of their kind. Huffing, she watched them a while longer with a pout, then slipped off her backpack and dug through its main pouch until she retrieved her sprint and time stop hats.

_Let's see how well you guys outrun me with these!_ She plopped the first on her head and shuffled once more onto her feet. Using a nearby rock to propel herself, she sped off once again. Unprepared for her sudden boost, the sprites whirled apart in surprise. Her fingertips grazed the side of the Time Piece, but she couldn't shake it free from their hold and dropped back to the earth in a crouch.

The chase was on. The sprite with her Time Piece darted away, a line of sparks trailing after it. Hat Kid followed close behind, brushing through the tall grass as they tickled her arms and face. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the other sprites weave through the air after her. She gritted her teeth and tried to keep her concentration on the sprite ahead, spinning around a second as it tore past her with yet another one of their high-pitched laughs.

Careful to avoid the spirits, she picked up her pace. Maybe they could roughhouse with each other, but one small touch from the twittering sparks was enough to wrack her whole body with electricity. The group only flew after her, a line of sprites like a swarm of large bees on her tail.

The one she was chasing led her over a series of rocks and around one of the larger, electrocuted trees. Then it flew over a small ledge. She barely noticed it in the tall grass, unprepared for the drop, scrambling to get back on her feet without losing her speed. Even then though, she didn't realize just how obscured her vision was until she was sent air-born by a mushroom hidden in the foliage. She charged right into it, rebounding off of its round surface as if hitting a spring.

Luckily, it sent her in enough of an arc that she wasn't thrown back into the midst of the lightning sprites. Her pride, however, didn't fair as well as her body did. Hat Kid came back to the earth rolling, brushing herself off to the sound of the spirits laughing at her. Even the one with her Time Piece seemed to pause to smile and jeer.

She felt her cheeks flush. Before she could even think of some snappy retort though, the sprites began to fly toward her yet again. Hat Kid dove away from them, circling around to aim for her Time Piece once more. She was getting frustrated, but it only boosted her determination. The sprite ahead, mid-laugh, jumped in surprise at her quick recovery and then zipped off.

They weaved once again through the thin, scattered lines of trees, then it tried pinning her by rounding them a second time to loop back with the rest of its kind. The group created a natural blockade, allowing the one to pass them, but cutting her off. Without breaking her speed, Hat Kid thought quick and looked for another mushroom. Shifting direction to the nearest one, she used it to vault over them, landing steadily on the other side and a few steps closer to her target.

In an instant, her hand flew to her time stop hat: With a speed that came only from habitual practice, her sprint hat was flung off and caught in her other hand with the former resting on her head in its place. She didn't wait to summon its abilities and soon the world around her shifted into blurry, strange, and dark hues. As always when she used its power, everything immediately slowed in her mind's eye—as if she was functioning in a separate reality from the one that played around her.

It was never more than a second's advantage, but it gave her just enough of an opening to close the gap between her at the sprite. She was just under it now, the Time Piece just a hair's distance away. Reaching up, she jumped for it and again could just barely graze the glass. She wasn't high enough!

Then she spotted just one more mushroom. With little time to spare, she went for it: She pounced on the cap and was sent flying yet again, adjusting her descent to aim right for the Time Piece. She fell just as her surroundings returned to normal, the world once again catching up to her, but all too late.

Hat Kid dragged out her umbrella, swinging out for additional reach and catching the sprite off guard from—to it—her sudden appearance by its side. She struck it full force, knocking the Time Piece away from its grasp. Then the young alien snatched it out of the air, clutching it against her chest to protect it as she tumbled back to the ground.

Sitting up, head dizzy from the rapid series of motions, she quickly examined the hourglass for any damage. She sighed: Miraculously, there wasn't even a scratch. Well, she wasn't one to question good luck. In the first place, when all of the Time Pieces—and herself—originally fell down to the planet's surface, none of them should've survived. Somehow though, beyond the handful of time rifts she'd had to fix, she'd managed to recover every one with little repairs.

However, relief didn't last long. A low, steady buzzing sound started up behind her. She didn't really want to, but she looked back. The sprites had gathered together once more. Their toy stolen from them, their bodies shifted from their bright yellow glows to a dangerous red. The one she had batted away recovered, flying at the front of the group with an angry stream of shrill sounds twittering out of it.

Hat Kid scrambled back to her feet, backing away slowly. There wasn't a way for her to outrun them. Even with both of her hats, they could only buy her so much time. She risked a glance over to the forest: There was no guarantee that they wouldn't chase her all the way back to town, and if that happened—even if the people there could help her fend them off—she wasn't sure what Moonjumper would think if she brought that kind of trouble with her, especially this soon after letting her explore this place. She needed cover—and fast.

The minute the lightning sprites dove her for, she reactivated her time stop hat's abilities. This time, however, she bolted as far away from the spirits as quickly as possible. The area was too open, there was no where to hide! Then her eye caught one of the glowing mouths of the trees.

It would have to do! Sliding inside, the child curled her body to make herself as small as possible within the confined space—not only to help hide her, but also to keep from touching the searing trunk red with heat. It was like sitting in the middle of a hearth, walls of embers all around her.

Not long after, her hat's effects, went away once again. She remained silent, crossing her fingers and hardly able to watch from her position as the sprites darted past her hiding spot in an electric wave. Her hair seemed to stand further on end as they passed, the air even more charged than before.

They didn't find her though. They passed one, two more times and then she gradually heard the sound of their whirring bodies fade away. She gave herself a few more minutes, then released a deep breath.

_That wasn't the hardest thing I've had to do to get one of you back…_ Hat Kid looked at the Time Piece still held tightly in her arms, _but you sure don't make things easy._

It was easier than dealing with the fire or swamp spirits, or the ghosts that roamed Subcon, at least. Still, she had the dreaded feeling that this was only the beginning. There was too much ground to cover and she'd had too many warnings to leave her guard down just yet. Peering outside, she looked around before crawling back into the open—although she still kept herself crouched low, ducking beneath the grass until she'd made it all the way back to the forest and the safe blanket of the undergrowth hiding her from view.

Hat Kid paused to stow everything into her bag and whip the soot out of her clothes. Before she could close it, she saw the cakes and bread tucked with the rest of her belongings. How often did she need to eat again? Maybe she could just reward herself for a job well done…

She thought it over, then plucked up one of the desserts and took a large bite out of it before carrying on her way.


	7. Act Three: Minecart Mayhem, part i

There wasn't another note waiting for her to send her off looking for another Time Piece back at the castle, and with nothing else to do, Hat Kid decided to explore it and look for Moonjumper herself. He had to be hiding around somewhere and it felt strange that she hadn't seen him since they'd first met—especially since she was staying in his home. Maybe he didn't even know she'd come back in the Horizon yet. It only made sense to say 'hi.'

To her, all of the hallways practically looked the same: Empty and wide, with the same lapis lazuli canopy and patterned stone. The outer walls alternated between wide balconies and tall windows, so the enclosed space was never as dark as they could be. The interior halls, meanwhile, were lit only by the glow rocks and florescent plants used as minor decorations.

Despite her best hopes, her exploration was somewhat underwhelming due to the largely vacant look of the place. There were a couple other guestrooms like her own, she passed the sparse foyer, and tried to open several locked doors. There was a large ballroom, but it was so dark and had a strong, dusty smell, so she didn't even bother entering it. It seemed like no one had anything to do with the chamber since the palace was first built.

Eventually, she found a large stairwell to the floors above. Her shoes tapped along the marble steps, echoing around her as the only noise to break through the quiet. After that was another maze of halls and smaller flights of stairs leading up and around a multitude of towers and passageways—some to the outside and others further up the palace still.

Before she could climb any higher, a sinking feeling in her gut, like she was being watched, made her freeze on the steps. She knew she was alone: She hadn't passed anyone and there was no place for a person—living or dead—to hide. For a moment, Hat Kid thought of the possessed objects, but there wasn't any kind of furniture or decoration where she was standing. She kept silent, waiting for anything to either give itself away or prove her feeling wrong.

That's when she noticed the faint, steady red glow reflected in the marble. Her eyes widened and she spun on her heel. Nothing though. The way behind her was just as empty. The sense of foreboding remained though, reminding her of when she'd broke into Vanessa's manor. That need to look over her shoulder because there was no telling when the ice queen would sneak behind her in a cloud of shadows and dark magic.

Hat Kid forced herself to calm down. The awe she felt exploring the Horizon greatly stifled it, but she was seeing things, being paranoid. She blamed it on her first adventures in Subcon, when Snatcher has tried to take her soul. He'd put her through all kinds of 'errands' that could've easily killed her. A town of the dead? Fighting through ghosts and spirits for her Time Pieces? Working under the direction of a phantom ruler? Of course it all felt familiar.

At least she didn't have to sign any contracts or watch out for traps this time…

Continuing on, the young alien entered an open hall that spilled her onto a wide veranda through a trio of archways. Seeing nothing but the barren mountainside before now, she was surprised to find herself overlooking a simple, geometric garden. Teal leaves shimmered with the Horizons normal phosphorescence and all of the flora was so precisely planted and cut that they may as well have been carved from the stones surrounding them along the cliffs and palace walls. It was as though someone had meant to freeze a moment in time. Cords of vines spiraled down from floating rocks above,

The bold contrast of Moonjumper's red cloak in the middle of a sea of whites and blues was impossible to miss. He stood in the middle of the garden with his back to her. She jogged down to meet him, still a couple meters away when he spoke first, "You've already visited the sprites? Good, good! I was worried you'd have some trouble."

Her footsteps must've given her away. Even though he couldn't see it, she still nodded, adjusting the straps of her backpack. "They weren't too bad," she answered, a small bit of pride in her tone, "I told you I could take care of myself."

Moonjumper turned around to face her, his mask's smile still too wide to match the controlled calm of his voice, "Are you feeling well?"

Her shoulders raised in a lax shrug. She guessed she was fine. A little rattled by what she'd experienced in the hall, but alright. She wasn't entirely sure if she should bring it up: She didn't want him to think she was jumping at shadows. Twisting in place, she took another look around, "I like your garden."

He replied with a small nod, turning his gaze back to the plants. It was hard to tell if he was trying to dismiss her or if he just wasn't interested in talking. To be fair, she didn't really know what to say either. Compared to everyone else she'd met on the planet, he was an enigma: He made an impression, sure, but not one you could pinpoint anything to. Not like DJ Grooves' show-stopping mannerisms, Snatcher's wicked aura, or the Goat's wall-like strength and calm.

Moonjumper was just… difficult to read. He acted like a gentleman, but was also kind of creepy. The mask didn't help at all. With the Dwellers or Snatcher's minions, the girl could understand them through either body language or changes in their voices. Moonjumper was too composed for that though, giving little behind that plastered, sharp-toothed grin away.

Hat Kid crouched down to get a closer look at a small patch of flowers, huffing to herself. Maybe she needed to find more things on the _outside_ if she wanted to know more about him. Usually not the best way to get to know someone, but how did the saying go? A persons' home was an extension of themself? That made sense: Snatcher was dark and foreboding, but just like his home he could be really warm too. When he wanted to be.

So, where did that leave Moonjumper…? Empty? Definitely orderly. In some respects, stone-like, but also painstakingly careful. For what little was here, everything seemed to have a place. She reached out her hand, gently touching one of the flower's soft petals. Everything seemed to work so perfectly, as if on command.

"Funny… They don't manifest often."

The young alien looked at him, but found the phantom's gaze facing further upward to the sky. Her jaw went slack when she saw it. The Horizon's typically empty void was suddenly washed with a parade of bright, twinkling stars. Slowly, as they danced through the air, Hat Kid began to make out patterns in them: A large bird with a long, glistening tail; an old ship with a large sail moving through the sky just like it was floating on the sea; a strange, humanoid figure with a circular face swinging a pendulum in their hand.

Pushing herself back onto her feet, for a moment, all she could do was stare in awe. Then, with a chuff of amusement, Moonjumper explained what the Badge Seller already partly had to her once before, "Celestial spirits. They live here and take the form of stars, travelling to and from the mortal world. You'll see them from time to time."

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Hat Kid waved her arms wildly at the spirits, shouting a greeting. If they noticed though, they did nothing more than twinkle as they already were. She wasn't even sure they _could_ react. Maybe they couldn't speak, or maybe they didn't even notice her at all. Nevertheless, her eyes reflected a shared, starry glimmer with the sky. They were beautiful, and she was excited to see in-person what she'd only vaguely witnessed through the founder Goats' storybook.

Moonjumper watched them alongside her, saying nothing for a long while with his hands clasped behind his back. Although she still couldn't read him, she got the feeling he liked looking at the celestial spirits too. His shoulders hung back in a tall, but relaxed way and his gaze steadily followed after the spirits as they moved.

His eye still skyward, he eventually said, "You know, there are old stories about them. That each of them is assigned different mortals to look after and can act as guiding forces in their lives."

"Like who?" she asked, turning to him with interest.

"Well…" he brought a finger to his mouth in thought, "There's Pictor, who was said to watch over artists; the three sailors—Vela, Puppis, and Malus; there are many supposedly attached to animals and other types of spirits as well."

Other spirits… That reminded her, "Moonjumper, when I went to see the lightning sprites, I heard singing. It was coming from this other path across from where you sent me. Are there any spirits who sing?"

"It could have been anything," he answered, but despite this something in his demeanor changed a little. He cringed, drawing a fist at his side and his shoulders rising with subtle tension. "Be careful where you go though. I don't need to tell you how dangerous some of the spirits here can be."

"But what if they have a Time Piece?"

"Let me worry about that for now," he said almost dismissively. Then he relaxed, his tone lightening back to a soothing dulcet once more, "I'll keep an eye out, but why don't you ask around? Some of my subjects may have caught wind of something I haven't. There are also the goblins on the other side of the mountain. They might know something."

"Goblins?" The idea made her smirk. Not that she doubted him—after everything else she'd seen on the planet—but that was one step further into the realm of fantasy than she expected to go. _Almost_ to the point of disbelief.

"Well-meaning creatures, even if they're lovers of treasure. They can be tricky, but aren't overly dangerous. If you handled the sprites well enough, then they shouldn't be a problem. Just try not to offend them." When she raised a brow, he explained further, "They're very short. Don't comment on their height."

She'd take the advice… As Moonjumper turned away to head back inside the castle, Hat Kid followed behind him—looking back over her shoulder to take one, last look at the celestial beings before they passed through the arched openings. After that, the ghost left her, heading in the opposite direction of the one she came and vanishing through an old, wooden door. Now alone and much of the day's excitement passed, the child rubbed her eyes wearily.

A yawn passed her lips. She wasn't the kind to get tired easily—not until she was completely ready to crash—but she'd been running everywhere and didn't even know how much time had passed. The Horizon's permanently darkened state made it impossible to tell night from day. _Maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a quick nap before seeing the goblins…_ she thought, already thinking of the soft bed waiting for her. The whole area was pretty big, so if she didn't rest soon it was possible that she'd wear herself out before she reached them.

Hat Kid thought she heard a whisper and looked back behind her to see if Moonjumper had reappeared, maybe thinking of something her forget to tell her. Instead, there was nothing. When she started back on her way though, she found the figure of the man blocking her path several meters ahead. He was strikingly pale, a stark contrast to the dark hair that framed his face. His casual suit was a neutral copper, but the color did nothing to hide the ash that clung to him—staining fabric and skin alike as if his body was painted in it. It scared her.

And yet she ran to him. She moved with a desperation she rarely felt, charging for the figure. In a literal blink of an eye, however, he was gone, causing her to skid to a halt and snap her gaze around in baffled horror.

There was nothing to fear, but she was alone again.

She was seeing things.

She needed to sleep.


	8. Act Three: Minecart Mayhem, part ii

Although Hat Kid was still curious about the singing she'd heard the day before, she took Moonjumper's advice and made her way to the other side of the mountain the next day instead. The path was rough, but it wasn't as far of a walk as the forest and she got to see a new part of the village. This section seemed less developed, more craggily and even less populated than the rest of the town—more boulders and dusty, broken trails to match the wasteland across the ravine than and the buildings here open, almost completely vacant. They weren't decrepit, but their somewhat worn look—matched with the dreary setting and lack of people—made her feel like they were.

Rather than focus on the unnerving feel of the place, the child gave her full focus to the half-eaten muffin in her hand. It wasn't much of a breakfast, but she'd woken up with a headache and had been more than happy to find it with a second sitting on a plate in her room, both still warm. Having eaten the other and packed away the first for the round, she'd watched the dishes clean themselves up and see themselves out in delight before beginning her own day.

 _If only the cups and plates on my ship did that,_ she thought, licking crumbs on her fingertips. If they did, it would've been one less chore for her to do. She doubted Moonjumper would trade them though, and to be honest she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about inanimate objects that had a mind of their own.

She looked at the berries nestled in with the dough. Cooking Cat had been helping her learn about different types of crops on the planet, but no matter how hard she tried, Hat Kid couldn't recognize these. It wouldn't have surprised her to learn that the Horizon's flora was _entirely_ different—she'd passed a few, small gardens in the village and was hopelessly ignorant to some of the strange things that she saw growing in them—she just wished she understood more. Maybe she'd meet some of the nature spirit's she'd heard about and could watch them work.

Well, strange as they were, at least they still tasted good.

It was a while before the child saw her first Dweller along the empty trail. He was impossible to ignore though: Body a dark Byzantium—not as rich as Snatcher's and with a much fainter glow creating a kind of outline around him—and a large, devil-like mask with dark, bleeding eyes and bright red and white patterns. Bigger than most, he was at least a head taller than her, even hunched and coiled as he was hovering in the air.

Upon spotting her, he immediately dove behind one of the buildings in a burst of panic before she could so much as wave at him. He eyed her cautiously, one the "horns" of his mask protruding out of his cover. By now, Hat Kid figured that the best thing she could do was keep going. She was used to some of the Dwellers acting flighty from her time spent in Subcon: It took weeks for them to get used to her and even then, not all of them did. She couldn't expect much else from the Dwellers here. Even if a couple of them had been friendlier toward her, most still kept their distance.

But then he started following her. She didn't notice it at first, the way he moved without a sound, but he wasn't very good at hiding. Every time she glanced behind her and he ducked around a boulder, his mask or the tip of his tail stuck out in the open.

It was funny for a while, then she quickly had enough. Finishing her muffin as she stuffed the last chunk in her mouth, she turned around with her hands on her hips—waiting first to see if he'd reveal himself when she so obviously knew he was tailing her. When he didn't come out, she stared hard in his direction and shouted, "I can see you, you know! I know you're there, so come out or stop following me! It's rude!"

A minute passed before the Dweller finally did, slowly creeping up from behind his rock to stare back at her. He then looked around sharply, his head snapping from one direction to the other in a fretful way. She couldn't tell what he was saying, but he was muttering a string of words under his breath.

He dove for her, swiftly twisting through the air and wrapping his tail around her arm. However, the ghost moved so quickly that he couldn't get good grip, only succeeding in pulling her a few feet before she immediately wriggled free with an indignant cry and her umbrella drawn at her side. She might've lashed out in self-defense were it not for the desperation she felt behind his heavy gaze.

Keeping a tight grip on her weapon, she asked him with a quizzical look, "What do you want from me?"

Again, a long stare followed by frantic glances at their surroundings. Either he was scared of something or he wasn't right in the head and needed more help than she was capable of giving. Eventually though, he was able to calm down enough to utter a warning, "You shouldn't be here, kid. Go back home while you can—while he's not looking."

She just balked at the Dweller, baffled and inching away as he shuffled closer. What was he talking about? Who was watching? They were alone.

When she didn't respond fast enough, he seemed provoked to greater urgency. "It's the Prince," he explained in a rushed tone, "He's not—he's not _our_ Prince, not like he was, he's changed! Right, not that you'd know…" The ghost paced in the air before continuing, "Just don't trust him, alright? He's not in his right mind, and if you're not careful you'll be trapped here like the rest of us!"

The way he acted, she doubted that he was one to judge. And was he talking about Moonjumper? She still didn't know what was going on—why they called him that or why Moonjumper went along with it—but she really didn't understand why the Dweller seemed so afraid, especially when none of the others she'd met reacted this way. Besides that, she liked Moonjumper: He was creepy, but had been honest and helpful.

Nevertheless, she decided to prod for answers. "How are you trapped here?" True, the Badge Seller had told her that this place was a kind of limbo, but from what she'd _seen_ they could still cross over to the physical world easily. Maybe their souls couldn't always move on, but she didn't think that meant they were trapped. Not in the way he seemed to mean it.

"He gets in your head!" the Dweller exclaimed, making less sense by the minute, "And he's watching—always watching, eyes everywhere! Nothing goes on in this place without him knowing. Give in and he'll never let you leave. Run away, kid. I'm planning on escaping myself, as soon as—"

He froze. For a moment, Hat Kid thought he was staring again, but then she noticed his subtle glance to her right. He was looking off at something behind her. That is, until he bolted without another word, weaving through the empty homes and scattered rock until he disappeared further down the path. Hat Kid watched him go, standing tersely with her umbrella still tight in her grip.

This time, when she glanced over her shoulder, she wasn't surprised to see nothing. Everything about that Dweller had thrown her for a loop. If there was something fishy going on, he was apparently the only one who knew about it. She shook her head.

 _Maybe it couldn't hurt to talk to Moonjumper though…_ It didn't hurt to be cautious and there was still a lot she didn't know—like why the Dwellers here insisted that Moonjumper was their prince, for starters. The Time Pieces were her priority, but she did care about them. If something was wrong, she couldn't _not_ get involved. In the very least, there was one Dweller who certainly needed help…

She could ask questions later. Right then, she still had a job to do. Although she followed the same trail that the purple Dweller had flown down—curving around the mountain along the side of another steep drop she couldn't see the bottom of—she didn't run into him again. Instead, the rest of her short journey was uneventful until she came to the mouth of a wide cave supported by rudimentary crossbeams of a strange design. They looked primitive, but strong.

It had to be the place. There weren't any other landmarks and Moonjumper had specifically said that the goblins were on this side of the mountain.

She didn't see any though. She _heard_ one first.

"Excuse me, lil' misses," came a gruff voice near her feet, coated with a heavy accent, "but I'm afraid I can't be lettin' ya in."

When Hat Kid first saw the goblin, she couldn't help jumping back a small step in surprise. In fairytales, goblins were always described as nasty, ugly creatures. This one wasn't, not really. Like in books, he had course, green skin but it was so greyed that he blended in with the surrounding rock. Aged, piercing eyes and two upturned fangs were all that distinguished him from the stone. Even his 'clothes' looked like a plated suit of tiny, smoothed out pebbles. Short stalks of unruly hair curved around two large ears ad he was balding a bit. He had a rough look and a hardened jaw, standing firm by her side even though he was just under a head shorter than herself.

"I don't know how ya made yer way this far," he continued, "but this is _no_ place for a child! Get along now! _Get!_ "

She didn't really know how to handle a tiny man barely chest-high waving her away like he was shooing a fly. She had to hold back the urge to giggle, for starters, biting her lower lip. "I'm looking for something. Moonjumper sent me!"

He paused, eye widening a bit at that, "He did, eh?" She didn't know what the phantom had over spirits, but clearly enough to make the goblin reconsider. He scratched his chin, "What for, misses? I can't really say no t' him, but I can't exactly let ya run around the mines either."

"I'm missing an hourglass," she explained, "It's really important." Explaining the Time Pieces was always a struggle for her, because she never knew what someone would do with that information. Fortunately, she typically didn't have to, but given that that secret was one of the reasons why she and Mustache Girl had become rivals and how so many people had tried to abuse their power since, being completely honest about them wasn't a risk she could take.

However, the goblin didn't need much, cutting her off with a raised hand and a subtle, disgusted eyeroll, "I know what ya want then! You'd be lookin' for Tuff!" He began to walk away, "I told him keepin' that bobble would bring nothin' but trouble! Though why the prince would send ya after it is beyond me, misses."

Hat Kid jogged after him. Upon entering the mouth of the cave, she could just make out more goblins peering at them from the shadows, resting against the stone walls with digging tools and spoils of their work tucked in burlap sacks by their sides. They looked at her with curious interest, but said nothing. "You know where it is then?"

"Sure, sure! Deep in the mines," he answered dismissively, "That's where the ol' earthworm's been hidin' ever since he got his hands on it. If he brings the prince's ire down on all of us…" he tapped his large foot on the ground in agitation, a sour look on his face, "I assure ya, misses, we respect his lordship, we do—made sure our kind had some place to call home. We don't want no trouble here!"

She hoped that meant he was going to help her out. The goblin walked over to a minecart, loaded with miscellaneous junk, that been pulled off the track. He continued to grumble to himself.

"We get barked at and chased out all across the mortal world," he grunted, leaning over the side of the cart to hunt through the mess, "just for bein' lovers of treasure—nevermind the dwarves and leprechauns, but nobody ever talks about their crooked sorts—finally find a place here and now that idiot'll give us all a bad name!"

As he continued his search, Hat Kid did her own, brief one. The cart held a mess of odd 'treasures,' most of which couldn't be found in any mine: Jewelry, watches, metal toys and trinkets all mixed in with various tools. It made her wonder if he was being completely honest with her, if the goblins could really play the victim as much as he let on. The way a couple of them eyed her cape's large, decorative clutch didn't help either. She couldn't condone it, but she wasn't going to make any rash judgements.

Her foot kicked against something lying on the ground. Squinting in the darkness, the girl picked up a cylindrical piece that looked like it may have fallen out of the cart or off a nearby crate. It was hard to tell, but she thought it looked like half of a spyglass.

With a shout of triumph, the spirit fished out a hardhat and rebounded back to the ground. As he rubbed the dust off of it and smacked at the light attached to get it to work, Hat Kid noted that it was far too big for him or any of the other goblins sitting around. It was the perfect size for a human though…

"If ya want to find yer bobble, you'll need this," he held the hat up to her, then made a nervous expression as he saw the piece in her hands. He pointed to it meekly, "Ah… we found that near the cliffsides one day. Might be the prince's—he's the only sort we know who likes to stargaze. Sad that it's busted, but take that back to him anyway, would ya, misses? Let him know there's no bad blood between us fairy folk."

She nodded, tucking it into her backpack. Before she sealed the pouch shut, Hat Kid paused to look at her money bag. She'd gathered a fair amount of pons on her adventures. It seemed to hurt the goblins a bit to have to give as much as they were for her sake—whether the items were originally theirs or not. She felt she might as well give back a little.

She withdrew a handful of pons inside the cover of her pack before looking back at the goblin, "Is this enough for the hat?"

The twinkle in his eyes as she showed him her hand was more than enough an answer. Although a part of her wondered how much good they really were to him, the goblin still swiped up the pons and traded off the hardhat in their place before she could blink. "That'll do, misses! _Plenty enough!_ " he gave her a toothy grin, his demeanor much more pleasant, "Yer not half bad. Ya'd suit as Moonjumper's vassal anyhow."

She wasn't entirely sure she knew what a 'vassal' was, but she offered an awkward, sideways grin in reply anyway.

Shuffling over to the start of the minecart track alongside her as he pocketed the pons, the goblin pointed into the depths of the cave, "Just go straight on down, misses: You'll bump into ol' Tuff sooner or later. Might give ya a chase, but we'll block the exits for ya. We can do that much."

The hardhat's light flickered as she set in on her hand in place of her usual piece and she gave it a hard rap to get it to stay on. It was bright enough to cover several meters ahead of her. Small minerals in the rock glistened when they fell under the steady beam and the path ahead way pretty straightforward.

Goal in mind and a light to guide her way, she raced deeper in fearlessly.


	9. Act Three: Minecart Mayhem, part iii

Aside from a few dips and climbs, it was a steady walk further within the caverns. She passed a handful of side tunnels, but the track never split off its straight course. She only crossed paths with a few other goblins that were walking back the way she came. For a while, all that accompanied her along the short trek were the clanking of pickaxes and mechanical rumble of minecarts in the distance, echoing off the walls.

Then everything suddenly opened up around her, spilling her into a huge chamber that dropped several levels into a deep chasm. Aside from dim lanterns hung sporadically along the walls, nothing except her new hardhat lit the massive scene. The singular track turned into a series of overlapping bridges and pathways, the carts stationary along the heavy, metal rails as if abandoned. Most of the ores for several levels seemed to have already been stripped from the earth, with wide nooks gouged out of the walls from previous digs. There were rustic ladders and stairwells leading deeper down into the abyss—where the goblins continued their search for cave’s treasures.

Hat Kid bit her lip as her stepped along the nearest bridge, unable to resist looking down as the drop. Then she recoiled as a high-pitched, bird-like shriek belted behind her. Scrambling back to the safety of the ledge, she snapped her gaze around to find a Dweller Crow locked within a cage dotted by strange runes, still screeching at her angrily from behind the bars. She pouted at it in annoyance.

_Guess that’s what works for a canary in a coal mine here,_ she thought, although she bristled at the idea of what for. If there were gas leaks, they wouldn’t affect the dead and the spirits were largely immune in a similar fashion. _Could it be the ether?_ No, they thrived in it. It had to be some other danger.

The sound of metal hitting metal and a string of mumbled curses echoing off the walls drew her attention upward. Across the chasm and up two levels—near the ceiling of stalactites—she squinted to see another goblin shuffle out of a small tunnel barely any larger than himself. He wasn’t much taller than the first she’d met, but he was stout and his flesh wrinkled. Wiry hair sprung from his head and knotted around his face in a thick beard, the sight reminding her of disjointed pipe cleaners. Thick goggles sat on a fat nose, and one of his fangs was longer than the other—curled at the tip as if it were trying to poke back through his cheek. 

Dust rained around him as he worked him way out, then checked the load cradled his arms. It was easy to recognize the vibrant light that radiated from his hold, manifesting from an hourglass shape. Hat Kid stepped further into the open, craning her neck as she shouted at him, “ _Hey!_ Hey, you’re Tuff, right?!”

He jumped at her call, drawing the Time Piece protectively against his chest as he looked around for her. “Who’s askin’?!” he barked, his voice harsher than the first goblin she’d met. Soon enough, his suspicious gaze landed on the child and he raised a thick, curious brow, “Ah. Yer a tiny thin’, aren’t ya…?”

Hat Kid ignored the comment, “I’m here for the Time Piece! Moonjumper sent me!” If the goblins respected the phantom enough, she hoped mentioning him again would save her the trouble of having to fight over the mystical relic.

No such luck. Tuff sneered at her, drawing back, “ _No way_ I’m handin’ it over! This is old magic—strong, powerful stuff even before my time. With just this one, I could do just about anythin’! I’m not gonna give it up, not even fer that masked madman!”

Then she’d have to climb up for it herself. Scaling a nearby ladder, she leapt away from the wall to reach a higher bridge. The goblin cried out in surprise, watching as she landed and broke into a run. Using a parked minecart as an added platform, she hurtled through the air a second time to reach him, but as her feet touched solid ground he sprinted away. He jumped—surprising her by the distance—and landed near a large lever.

He pulled it and the entire chasm seemed to rumble around them. The young alien felt the track quiver under her feet as the dull hum of grinding machinery started around them. At the sound of wheels speeding toward her, Hat Kid looked behind her and dodged just in time to avoid a charging minecart—nearly stumbling off the track as it tore past her.

She landed just in time to see Tuff stamp his foot along the switch and rip the lever out of place, tossing the now useless bar into the depths below with a confident smirk. Then he jumped away a second time, landing on one of the now active carts with a loud _slam_ and riding it into the distance. Hat Kid chased after him, lunging off of the track to land down on another below.

Metal creaked and groaned all around her like the cries of a dying beast. Everything was moving now: Minecarts raced along the tracks and the bridges they ran across wavered in place from the momentum. The goblin darted beneath her from the level below and she dropped down to try to land on top of him—just missing as he sped ahead. A second barreled toward her from behind, but she was ready for it. Vaulting over to a nearby support beam, she managed to jumped onboard this time and ride after him. 

If it weren’t for getting the Time Piece, the child would’ve enjoyed the ride. With its chaotic dips and turns, it was like a rollercoaster. Aside from flight training, the experience was new to her and her stomach leapt with each whir of motion. She braced herself, feet planted against either side and one hand clenched tightly to the front.

It was steady going, but her cart was gaining on Tuff’s. Soon enough, the latter realized it as well, turning around with a stunned look. Hat Kid braced her umbrella tightly in her free hand, ready to wallop. He hurriedly searched the floor his minecart, then reached for something with another smirk, giving her pause. There was a spark and then a thin, blurred shape went flying toward her.

She ducked and soon heard a loud explosion just behind her head. Tentatively raising back up with a grimace, she looked back just in time to see a cloud of smoke dissolve into a thin fog before vanishing completely. A lump formed in her throat, _Dynamite?!_ He was one to call Moonjumper crazy: The Time Piece wouldn’t do either of them much good if he blew up the track!

Against her best hopes, he had explosives to spare. He readied another one, although this time the toss was lower and too far to the right. It would strike her cart directly at the side. In a surge of panic, Hat Kid thrust her body in the opposite direction, the cart skidding on its left set of wheels. She couldn’t contain a fearful scream, eying the dark descent beneath her and fighting to maintain her balance while the device soared past. All of this happened in seconds, the bomb once more going off behind her before she fell back into place, rocking back on the full set of tracks.

When he threw another, they were rounding along a rocky wall. The collapse of stone made her doubly grateful for her hardhat as she once more ducked for cover. Then the carts flew down a steep slope. Tuff’s slowed first at the bottom—by too much. At last, Hat Kid was able to close the gap enough to reach him with her umbrella, giving him a good swing., and he fell back with a pained grunt.

Unfortunately, the force behind the hit was enough to push him further ahead of her once again. One after the other, the two continued to zip along the tracks. The goblin found more dynamite. He chucked a pair toward either side of her. Gritting her teeth, she flung her body one way, then the next—narrowly missing the second to where the bomb went off right next to her. She covered her face as her vision went blind in a haze of smoke, the light of her hat the only thing piercing through it.

It was so overwhelming that she almost got hit the next time, shoving her weight again to the right in a scrambled effort to avoid getting hit. Something clacked underneath her and she looked over the edge of the cart to see a piece of metal fall away from the bridge they were crossing and off into darkness. If she had any luck on her side, she prayed that the crude track would hold together.

Again, she was able to get close enough for another swing. Tuff was prepared for her though. Despite taking the brunt of the attack, he had another explosive ready. Hat Kid was too close to dodge when it threw it, only able to toss her own body back as the dynamite struck the front of her minecart and the blast toppled her over. Overall, the cart’s thick layer of steel protected her from serious harm, but it flipped—dumping her out onto the track. She curled up in a defensive ball as it rolled off, falling away.

She quickly pushed herself back up with a determined expression, pursing her lips as he began to speed away from her a second time. Once more, he circled on a lower track. There was a second that merged with it, and another minecart running along that. Darting along the course, she threw herself over to it, hooking her umbrella along its rim and jumping inside.

The goblin wasn’t so quick to underestimate her know, watching her as she started gaining once more. As she neared, he threw another piece of dynamite her way. Hat Kid was already braced for it, ducked low inside the cart.

She’d swung her backpack off and rapidly fished through it. The girl withdrew her brewing hat to the loud eruption sounding just past her head. _Let’s see how you like a taste of your own medicine!_ She ripped off one of the vials strapped to its crown—filled with her own attempt at Snatcher’s blue potion. She’d have to aim carefully: She only had a few of them prepared in advance and a good portion of them were still buried somewhere in her bag. There was a straight section of the track just ahead of them. She’d wait for that.

Another round of dynamite was chucked her way. Again, she veered to the side to dodge. When Tuff spotted the vial in her hand though, he glowered at her. He grabbed three stick of dynamite this time, each thrown in a rapid sequence. _Right, left, duck!_ The cart bucked and rocked so much that she was certain it would fly off the track anyway, only this time with her still in it!

Another right as he tossed a fourth piece, but she had him right where she wanted him. As they reached the targeted area, Hat Kid propped herself against her cart, leaning forward with her legs set back to balance her. She was farther than wanted to be, but it was fine: She could throw far enough to reach him!

And she did. With a grunt of effort, she sent the little, glowing vial flying straight for Tuff. It landed inside his cart, erupting in a blast of blue smoke. Like her earlier, he was thrown out of the minecart as it lurched off-course and dumped him onto the track, coated from head to foot in the potion. He lost his grip on the Time Piece, unable to reclaim it as Hat Kid’s own cart sped by and nearly ran him over, forcing him to roll out of the way and land to the level below.

The child anxiety hissed through her teeth, watching as the relic bounced off of beams and continued to fall. She grabbed her umbrella, jumped out of her own cart, and ran, but there wasn’t any way for her to reach it.

The biggest piece of luck for that day was when the Time Piece finally touched ground and rolled not far from where she’d entered, it’s light flickering wildly before settling down at it came to a halt on its side. She released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, thankful that it hadn’t shattered. Without any further delay, she jumped after it, the hourglass at last in her grasp a moment later and miraculously without a scratch. 

She heard cursing behind her, looking over her shoulder to watch as Tuff shambled into view across the chasm. He rubbed his head with one hand and wiped his goggles with the other, dragging clear streaks through the blue mess. “Ya know what? _Fine!_ ” he shouted at her angrily, “ _Fine, fine, fine!_ Ya want it? Keep it! Though what’s a youngin’ like ya need one o’ those fer is beyond me!”

“I need it to go home!” she barked back, already putting the Time Piece safety away in her pack. Despite his words, he was so waspish that a small part of her worried that he still might try to grab it back, as if he could leap over the massive gap between them. 

Much to her surprise though, he laughed at her words. It was a harsh, wheezing sound that shook his whole body. He let the moment pass, leaning forward on his knees to steady himself until he could catch his breath.

Then he flashed her an angry, ugly grin, “Well, with a thin’ like that, I don’t doubt that ya could! So long as Mad Moon doesn’t have a thin’ t’ say about it!” Seeing the confused look on her face, he continued in a brash tone, “Sure, sure, he’s a good man, youngin’! But mortals rarely come t’ the Horizon with their heads on straight! And his Highness is the worst o’ cases, I can assure ya! If ya value yer safety, ya’d be best t’ keep yer distance.”

Hat Kid pouted as he shook his head at her in amusement, then stuck her tongue out at him in reply. Thus far, the only two people who told her that Moonjumper was crazy weren’t exactly on the stable side themselves: She figured she could take his words with a grain of salt.

Replacing the hardhat back on her head and adjusting the straps of her bag, she saw herself out.


	10. Time Rift: The Luminous Forest

_Mad Moon…_ The words replayed in the young girl’s mind no matter how much she tried to dismiss them. If Moonjumper was mad, then he was the politest lunatic she’d ever met. And after everything she’d been through on the planet, she felt she’d met many. Hat Kid had lost count of the number of times she’d had to fight for her life—not even always for the Time Pieces. Even if he was just another insane person in an already insane world, she was more than capable of making that call herself.

Not to say that she still wasn’t wary of him, just no more than several of the other people she’d met. In the very least, she wasn’t going to let any sense of paranoia keep her from her mission. She wasn’t even sure how many Time Pieces she had left to find. Her ship’s scanners hadn’t made it easy for her this time.

Luckily, some of the equipment the alien had brought with her did. It’d been a few minutes since she’d left the goblins’ caves when suddenly an alarm blared from inside her pack. Immediately, she halted and slung her back around—shuffling through its contents until she removed a device built similarly to a stopwatch from inside. The small machine fit steadily in her hand, and was connected to her ship’s scanners to trace both time-space anomalies and distortions in reality. For the most part though, she used it to track the time rifts.

Born from shattered Time Pieces, they would grow in both size and power. Left unattended, the small breaks in reality could rip apart the world around it. The only way to seal them was by going inside personally removing the Time Piece trapped within. That wasn’t all though, as the rifts’ environment would then distort based on the dreams and memories of whoever entered them. The only exceptions were the purple rifts—or story rifts, as she liked to call them—which instead _absorbed_ those memories of a specific person if a Time Piece happened to already be in contact with that individual when it broke apart.

Luckily, the time rifts were the worst thing to come from the shattered hourglasses thus far and she was normally able to get to them in time. She wasn’t about to break that streak. She paused before pulling up a mini-map on the device’s screen. Would it even let her know where the rift was this time? Something blipped to life anyway, and soon she was running through the rugged terrain to cut back through the town. What few ghosts wandered the streets veered out of her way as she sped past.

It guided her into the forest, away from the trails to tear through the undergrowth. The device only gave her a general idea of where to look, and the forest’s bioluminescence camouflaged the time rift within its maze of flourishing trees and widespread of flowers. After several minutes spent running in circles, she was finally able to spot it against the glaucous blue of a thick trunk. It was low to the ground and she was easily able to reach it, diving inside without a moment’s hesitation.

* * *

Blue rifts always seemed to reflect her steadfast desire to return to her homeworld, as those memories seemed to be drawn from most to create the vast scene she found herself returning to. Always, there stood the massive, iconic clocktower overlooking the stretch of city far below her. Echoes of it stood at a further distance as distorted blurs, only recognizable by their golden faces piercing through a sea of blues brighter and warmer than the Horizon’s. There was no wind, but the air was temperate and cool. It felt even more refreshing than usual after the hassle she’d gone through to get that last Time Piece. Platforms of white stone coursing with rich crystals almost like sapphires paved the way ahead.

The blue time rifts also had a way of pulling from _recent_ memories as well. On her own wide section of rock, a pair of Dweller Crows snapped to attention at her sudden appearance. They weren’t real, but so long as she stayed in the rift, any damage they could do would feel _very real_ to her. Hat Kid shuffled back as it began to charge after her, quickly digging through her backpack until she grabbed ahold of her Dweller mask and slapped in onto her face. With it, the crows appeared more defined in front of her and she was easily able to beat the both of them back.

 _There’s something new,_ she thought with a grin as she looked around for a way across—or any early sign of a Time Piece. Leading over to the next platform were a trio of large bubbles. It must’ve been a part of the dream elements at work. As she walked over, the girl could just reach the first with the tip of her umbrella. She gave it a careful poke only for it to burst in a spray of water, the force behind it knocking her arm back.

She didn’t think they’d be stable in the first place, but now she felt that she could hop across them similarly to balloons. it was trick she learned all the way back in Mafia Town: So long as she was quick, she could make it. Hat Kid could picture her teachers rolling their eyes at the idea.

It was literal child’s play to her though. Leaping over to the second, she landed on it with both feet and was instantly propelled over to the next. Flecks of water hit her tunic and cloak like heavy raindrops. As she bounced across on the third bubble, a puddle formed around her feet where she landed—nearly causing her to slide in place before raising her arms outward to steady herself.

From there, she came to a wall of sliding platforms, moving in rhythm one right after the other. It was an easy climb up, timing each step, only to run into another crow at the top and smack it across the ledge. A lamppost stood beside her and she grabbed onto it as she slipped her mask up for a moment to gaze into the distance. From a ways off, sure enough, she spotted the bright, familiar shine of a Time Piece. There were still obstacles ahead, but it wasn’t terribly far.

The next platform was wide and swung like a pendulum in front of Hat Kid. Rotating stonework followed after it, covered with cubic edges jutting out of it, like pins on a music box’s cylinder. Again, she timed her jumps, riding along the first until the second had turned almost level with her. Then she bulleted across, weaving around the rock. She couldn’t stop, flipping through the air before the platform could turn over on her, rebounding off another bubble, and landing once more on steady ground.

She paused to catch her breath for just a second, taking in the view all the while. The young alien wondered how much she’d miss this planet when she finally did leave—or if anyone on it would truly miss her. Sure, she’d help save their planet when Mustache Girl tried to change time, but it was her fault for losing the hourglasses in the first place and many of the people she’d met had wanted them for the similar reasons. It wasn’t like she truly made amends with anyone either. She’d made plenty of friends, like Cooking Cat, but also plenty of enemies… By all means, the girl shouldn’t have even set foot on the backwater world, well on her way to her own planet by now.

Minus all of the work she’d had to do, she was actually enjoying herself on the planet. There was hardly any space between one thrill and the next, and nothing about its places or its people were alike. They were wonderfully zany, and funny, and different. She’d never forget them. 

So yes, she’d miss them, at least a little. Mustache Girl had stolen from her—twice—but they’d once been friends. The Conductor and DJ Grooves had nearly done her in multiple times with their crazy stunts, but she liked being in their movies. Even Snatcher had her sympathy and was fun to be around, as grumpy and frustrating as he could be. Maybe one day she’d get to visit them again.

There was a small path of platforms descending in front of her, turning as though on dials, then a tower-like structure that had her climbing a set of ‘stairs’ that reversed motions every other step. More bubbles past that, lined in a zigzag pattern until she could reach another trio of crows waiting for her on a floating cube. Although she had some trouble with the second, each obstacle was taken in stride and she conquered each in their own time.

By now, the end of her cloak was dripping from the multiple sprays. Hat Kid grabbed the tail of it and rung it tightly with both hands to squeeze the liquid out. It was slightly sticky on her fingers and smelled like detergent. 

But the Time Piece was just up ahead. The next jump was a bit farther than usual, and she threw more force into it to make it. Thin slates of rock twisted in opposing directions ahead of her. She waited until they had lined up before making her way across, adjusting her weight with each step to keep her balance as they once more slowly moved out of place. Then she was on stabled ground again, climbing just a little higher to reach the Time Piece.

As soon as she grabbed it, her surroundings began to break apart as she was spirited away back to the Horizon.

* * *

Despite the poor situation, entering a blue time rift typically refreshed her. It gave her a glimpse of her end goal and a moment away from everything to just think things over. It was a more than needed respite.

Its effects didn’t have long to last.

Hat Kid gave herself the usual minute to collect her bearings after leaving the rift. Instead of white stone, there was grass at her feet. A faint, floral scent tickled her nose. A canopy of foliage hung over her. The Time Piece was still cradled in her arms. She’d made it back without a scratch and none the environment seemed to have been distorted by the now-sealed and vanished anomaly. She took off her mask. A sense of satisfaction welled in her chest. Finding two Time Pieces in one day was a good score. Maybe she’d reward herself with a small break and a well-deserved snack—

As soon as she spun around to head back to the trail, her heart leapt in her throat. There was a _third_ one now: A third figure to mock her with its silence where it limply stood about four meters away. It was a girl this time, a teenager, with dark locks similar to hers pulled into a side ponytail decorated with a loose, canary yellow ribbon. Her grey, belted tunic fit her lithe body well, long sleeves meeting gloved hands. She stared not at the child, but directly toward her, so there was no hiding the smooth contours of her face.

Hat Kid didn’t know what she was doing. A pained, confused expression twisted onto her face. This time, the sight bothered her enough that, before she knew it, she was about to throw the Time Piece at the mute figure. Then someone shouted for her, jarring her out of the spell to pull her eyes away for the split second it took for the being to disappear when she looked back.

“Kid! Hey, kid!” the voice was light and sweet.

Shaking her head, the young alien ran toward it to meet a familiar Dweller halfway—back near the trail she’d left behind. It was the first one she’d met, the one that had carried her. Each skid to a halt in front of the other, the ghost curling around herself sheepishly.

“There you went! I-I saw you speed off. No need to run around like that…” Despite her calling, she’d gone back to her usual, polite nervousness, “I was wondering… My mother used to be a seamstress, you see, a-and it’s been a long time since she’s gotten to make much of anything for anyone. I was thinking, if you would, it would make her really happy if you paid her visit and asked for something. Please…”

The child’s mind was a bit of a mess, processing the things that’d happened so quickly after each other, and the request was an odd one. She blinked, taking another second to calm down and run the words in her head a second time. Still baffled, she nodded, swallowing, “Yeah… Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Really?!” There was excitement in the Dweller’s tone. Her ethereal tail was curled in front of her in a fidgety way, like someone anxiety picking at their fingers. “Thank you! I know you’ll like her work! You’ll see!”

She was only half paying attention, looking back in the direction she’d come from. Of course, the apparition didn’t reappear though.

“You’re going back to the castle, right?” the Dweller continued, “since you got another one of your hourglasses, I just figured… We can go back together, and I can show you my house on the way.”

She gave her another distracted nod. Still, Hat Kid felt her legs move as she absentmindedly followed the ghost. She didn’t want to be there—or alone—right then anyway. 


	11. Interlude

The lavender Dweller’s home was a small, two-story building connected to part of the town’s outer wall, and for not the first time Hat Kid had a weird, familiar feeling as she walked through the winding—if short—streets to get there. The ghost faded inside the house first, then she heard something click before the door swung open for her. The warm, yellow light of a candle poured out from the inside with a welcoming glow, and even if it weren’t for her invitation in, the child was still drawn toward it.

Surprisingly, the home was well-furnished. There were shelves lined with little trinkets and interesting works of stone, an empty fireplace, a table with a vase filled with some of the forest’s shimmering flowers and the candle sitting on top of it, soft curtains suspended by the windows, and a woven rug stretched over the hard floor. Stairs were carved out from the wall, leaping up. “You can take a seat, if you want,” said the Dweller, “My mother’s probably upstairs. Just give me a minute…”

With that, she spiraled through the ceiling to the second floor. Hat Kid considered following, but shuffled closer to the candle instead. Raising her hands to the flickering flame, the subtle warmth radiating from it actually surprised her. The Horizon’s temperature remained so steady that any change was jarring. It felt nice and rejuvenating, as if the terror of what she’d experienced earlier had chilled her blood and only just now started to thaw.

Taking a second glance around, she admired the old-fashioned, but quaint look of the place. It certainly had more personal touches than Moonjumper’s castle anyway. There was a cozy feeling to it all. It was pretty quiet, but then that went for most of the Horizon. Space was quiet too, so it was weird how much she found herself missing the calls of birds and insects she’d gotten used to hearing while on the planet’s surface.

A red blur swerved into her line of vision. At first it startled her, but she recognized the shape immediately after. It was another one of the faceless Dwellers. Although there was little to distinguish them beyond the shape of their masks, this one seemed smaller and lither than the baker. Despite the lack of eye sockets, the ghost seemed to stare at her intensely. “Oh my, oh my…” she whispered in a quiet, feminine voice, seemingly to herself.

The lavender Dweller floated down the stairwell, “This is the child I was telling you about, Mother,” she explained, “She said she’d like you to make something for her. You will, won’t you?”

At first, the older phantom drew back a little, as if trying to hide behind the wall. Hat Kid offered a small, greeting wave, trying to reassure her. Honestly, the alien didn’t really care for a new outfit—not that she would turn down the gift, but clothes were the furthest thing from her mind. The former raised her head brightly though when she added, “Will you? Your daughter says you’re good as sewing.”

It was like meeting another person. Although still soft-spoken, the faceless Dweller pulled herself back out into the open and crossed over to Hat Kid, nodding eagerly. “I-I’m a little out of practice, but I can certainly try,” she answered, “It’s been so long…” The excited energy she now carried herself with differed greatly from her mask’s expressionless features. Darting through the air, she went over to over of the shelves to a tiny box.

The lavender Dweller looked at Hat Kid with what seemed to be a thankful smile before diving away to grab some paper. Then a faint, red glow enveloped the box as her mother opened it and pulled out a deeply yellowed measuring tape with nearly unreadable markings from inside. At first, it appeared fragile with age, but the more she unraveled it revealed its sturdy, leather material.

They got right to work. It felt awkward, the ghosts gently guiding her positions and the tape firmly looping around one part of her body before pulling away to encircle another. She’d never had anyone take her measurements for anything before. Counter to this, the mother and daughter moved in natural sync.

“I’m afraid I don’t have many fabrics or colors,” the former admitted, “but I know I can work with what I have to make something nice. Do you like red?”

The child gave her a little grin and nod, reaffirming, “I’m sure whatever you make will be great.” At the same time though, a part of her began to wonder how much of a need there was for a ghost seamstress anyway. Beyond the ragdoll-like bodies that Snatcher’s minions possessed, only a handful seemed to wear anything at all. The Dwellers themselves typically just wore their masks and nothing else. If it was just something the woman did before she died, then surely she could’ve picked up another hobby by now. Why not? To avoid hitting too personal a mark though, Hat Kid instead asked, “How long have you been sewing?”

“For as long as I can remember,” she answered with a light sigh, then with a bit of pride, “I made the Prince’s outfit. And the curtains in the castle—I did most of the sewing for the castle, actually. It was a big job and it took a while, but it was just so bare!”

More than it was now? That was a depressing thought. “It must have been a lot of work.”

“Actually, I miss it…” her voice turned a bit gloomy, “Now there’s just so _little_ to do, I’m not sure what to do with myself.”

The child’s mind went again to Snatcher’s minions, the uneven stitches on their bodies and the roughly patched over tears from times that they’d been worn or ripped. They probably could use someone who could stitch them up a little nicer—maybe make them look a bit more unique from each other than the bad copies of their current forms. Maybe the other Subcon Dwellers would even like bodies of their own. Snatcher didn’t like strangers entering the forest, but what about old residents? “Maybe one day you could go back to Subcon,” she offered, “I think there are people there who’d like your sewing too.”

The elder phantom gave a strange tilt of her head, and replied to her bafflement, “I think you’re confused child. _This_ is Subcon. I should know: I lived here all my life.”

Hat Kid’s eyes widened, but before she could respond, the lavender Dweller glided over to her with a consoling motion. “ _No_ , Mother,” she mildly countered, like someone correcting a toddler. There was a twinge of sadness to her voice. “We _left_ Subcon, don’t you remember? We had to.”

The woman went silent for a long time, as if trying to process her thoughts. Her gaze seemed distant, and when she snapped back to the present all she answered with was a quiet, “Oh…” as if she only half-believed it.

Her daughter stared at her a moment longer. If she were alive, her shoulder might have sagged in a tired sigh. “Sometimes, she has trouble remembering things clearly,” she mumbled, “Let’s not talk about Subcon…”

Hat Kid inwardly winced. She guessed she’d managed to hit a sore spot anyway. She didn’t know that ghosts _could_ lose their memories. Wasn’t that partly why most of them stuck around? Because they were latching on to things in their old lives? Then again, it wasn’t like she knew all that much about the paranormal anyway. Before she got used to Snatcher, she’d been plenty scared of ghosts.

She didn’t know what conversation to make after that either. However, after a minute, the young Dweller continued, “So what’s it like, staying with the Prince?”

The child raised a brow and lowered her arm after they’d checked its length, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I think you’re lucky you get to stay in the castle is all,” she floated back over to the paper, levitating the piece of graphite to etch down yet another measurement, “He leaves the door open all the time for everyone, even the spirits, but it’s not like any of us really get to see him much. He always seems busy.”

“He used to be much more social,” her mother added, “but that was years ago. A price of his status, I suppose…”

“What does Moonjumper do?” Hat Kid asked, “I mean, I know he’s the prince here, but…”

“He protects us,” the lavender ghost replied, marking down the last number. The other moved back to put the tape away. “To put it briefly, His Highness works hard to keep the peace with the spirits of the Horizon. He helps make our home a safe place for all of us and any other ghosts that might show up. He also works with the goats sometimes too, and has watchmen looking after their waypoint—the one you entered from.”

That did sound like a lot. Snatcher did much of the same for Subcon Forest too, although he typically hung it under the banner of his control rather than an honest desire to defend anyone. That and he tried to trap and enslave anyone that showed up through his contracts. Although she was still _technically_ working under Moonjumper in order to find the Time Pieces, she was glad she didn’t have to sign over her soul this time.

“I met the goblins,” she said, “They seem to really like Moonjumper.”

“I’m not surprised,” the Dweller bobbed her head in a kind of shrug, “He’s helped a lot of spirits like that. The goblins didn’t have a place to go, so he gave them one. They mostly keep to themselves, but they do sometimes give us gems and other ores as a way of thanking him. The same can be said for a lot of other spirits: They make their homes some place nearby and help us out now and then in return. And the dangerous ones are kept back.”

Eager to get to work, her mother grabbed the paper with the same, ghostly energy she used before and darted back up the stairs without much of a goodbye. Both the living and deceased girls watched her go before continuing their conversation:

“Honestly, I haven’t gotten to talk to him as much as you’d think,” Hat Kid adjusted the straps of her pack out of habit, eying her feet. She’d gotten more information about him in one day talking to other people than she had in all of their own brief chats. His rare shows of emotion didn’t help her make any sense of him either.

She thought of the purple Dweller that had jumped her too. The teenage phantom spoke so highly of Moonjumper that Hat Kid was afraid to bring it up—not to mention the former’s panicked look was still fresh in her mind. She thought of his desperation to “escape” this place. Maybe there were certain things she was better off keeping to herself for the time being, at least until she understood more. Thus far, opinions of the ghostly prince were as polarized as they could be.

The other shook her masked head, “I can’t exactly say I have either. Even when I was alive, I never really was brave enough to talk to him. I guess I’m still not…”

If his own subjects couldn’t reach out to him and didn’t know him well enough, then Hat Kid’s own chances looked slim. Barring if a Time Piece happened to land right on his head and tear open a purple rift, anyway.

“I hope I didn’t keep you too late,” she continued in a soft mutter, “You’re probably pretty busy too.”

“Nah, I’m glad I come stop by.” Beyond needing a distraction to bring her back to reality after what she’d witnessed in the forest, the alien had never been inside a Dweller’s home. Granted, Subcon’s lived in the hollowed-out shapes of large, old tree trunks, but all of them were still too shy to have ever invited inside one. She probably did need to leave though. If Moonjumper was expecting her to report back, he was probably wondering where she was by now.

The Dweller brightened back up a bit, helping guide her to the door, “I’ll let you know when your new outfit is done. You can come back then.”

It was a promise. Feeling a little better now, Hat Kid was actually looking forward to whatever kind of look it would be, but she guessed it would have to be a surprise until then. Stepping out of the home, she gave it one, last look over her shoulder before hurrying off to the castle. Through the grids of the highest window, she could spot the faceless seamstress staring back at her—watching her go. She waved at her.

The red ghost hesitated for a moment, head cocked to one side and the end of her tail mildly twitching as though she were anxious, before she shouted back, “Goodbye!”


	12. Act Four: The Lost and Found, part i

Unfortunately, for all of the good luck she initially had collecting the first four Time Pieces, her search turned stale for a while after that. Moonjumper didn’t get any news and Hat Kid’s attempts to ask around on her own were fruitless.

Initially, it felt weird, since there didn’t appear to be many places to hide the hourglasses. For as small as area this part of the Horizon seemed to initially take up though, Hat Kid was taken aback by just how expansive it truly was. Her explorations sent her roaming around the town, meeting all types of ghosts from across the planet; through the depths of the vivid forest; to the field where the electric sprites still buzzed around; across the mountain passages; and along cliffsides overlooking the wastelands. And this was just the section that Moonjumper and the Dwellers had claimed for themselves. There could’ve been countless other locations beyond the Horizon’s never-ending void and the impossibility of her chances with that in mind made her head reel.

She couldn’t give up though. Which brought her to the forest once again. Blending in with the maze of shimmering flora, it was the easiest place for a Time Piece to go missing. By then, she’d already trekked down nearly every path at least once, looking over them with a fine-toothed comb. The Magnetic Fields were a dead end. The wastelands were just as empty as always—although one of the Dwellers told her that, in the cold months, many nature spirits would flood the location and transform it into an oasis filled with a bounty of new, etheric ‘life.’ Where else did that leave her to go?

Hat Kid paused for a moment to recollect her bearings and take a sip of water from her canteen. For the second time that day, she checked her handheld device to see if it had somehow gone off without her notice, but the screen remained blank. There had t be something she was missing. Or maybe whatever spirits took the Time Pieces remaining had already gone somewhere else—maybe they weren’t even in the Horizon anymore. But her gut told her that wasn’t the case: She just needed to keep looking. 

All at once, there was singing. The child stopped in her tracks, a brow raised in wonder at the sound. It took her a second to remember that she’d heard it once before. She wasn’t far from the crossroad where she’d heard it the first time—only then, her mission had kept her from investigating it. The noise was too faint to make anything out, but the more it continued the more her curiosity grew.

She’d been warned about the risk of running into dangerous spirits by both Moonjumper and his subjects. She couldn’t help herself: Intrigue won over caution and her search was fruitless as it was. After a reluctant moment of thought, Hat Kid followed the sound.

Gradually, as she walked along the forbidden trail, she noticed that the plants around her began to look more and more withered. Not with decay—she wasn’t entirely sure that they _could_ die, not in the normal sense—but with a dimmed, dry look that gave them all a worn, dangerous edge until they all but thinned completely. Even the canopy of branches above has eased into a series of cold monoliths with jagged points surrounding her. 

She wasn’t exactly surprised, given the various areas she’d already stumbled into while exploring the Horizon, but in no way was she prepared for the sudden drop in temperature that soon followed. All at once, her flesh stung from a bitter cold that had latched onto her from nowhere. She tried bundling herself up with her cape, brows furrowed at the coil of air that wisped in front of her face as she breathed. Then she saw her first snowflake, drifting lazily before her eyes until it came to rest on the crisp earth near her feet.

A hardened knot formed in her gut. This felt too familiar. This felt like when she’d ventured through the frozen part of Subcon caught under Vanessa’s magic.

Vanessa wasn’t here, she knew that, but what was this? Was this just another one of the Horizon’s strange environments or was there some other ghost just like the ice queen lingering nearby? The thought alone gripped Hat Kid with fear, to the point where she didn’t know she’d stopped moving through a steady build of snow until the singing she’d been following suddenly grew much louder. She did the only thing she could: She hid, curling around her own body to make herself as small as possible among the large, gnarled roots of a bare tree.

The words were so much clearer now. Voices sung in an almost breathy soprano; each note met with a haunting sense of control:

_“Tale of a place, a deep forest dark with grace,  
“There he lives  
“Blooming inside, a wild field of big eyes,  
“And there he lives_

_“Skin so blue, his eyes shot red,  
“The moon, the sky, tell him only lies,  
“He doesn’t know, she waits inside,  
“She lost her mind, many years gone by!” _

Peeking out from her hiding place, she counted two of them. At first glance, it would’ve been easy to mistake them for humans, or ghosts that had materialized in human form. She could only describe them as snow women. Both were exceptionally beautiful, with long, flowing hair and mist-like robes that cascaded around them in graceful, billowing movements when they moved. They danced barefoot in the snow, each step as fluid as water and never leaving a single print in the soft powder.

However, the longer Hat Kid stared at them, the more evident the chill coursing down her spine became. Lovely as they were, there was something terrifying about their beauty. Their flesh was deathly pale, tinted with an icy tone and laced with fine, delicate patterns like frost against glass. Their eyes were a clouded, faint blue, and there was no regard for whatever fell in their line of sight: Instead, their coy gazes seemed to _leech_ from anything they set upon. They carried an aura that that almost vampiric.

It was too late to sneak away: They were meters from Hat Kid, so she waited for them to pass by. She had no idea what kind of spirits they were beyond their obvious ties to the ice as elementals. For all she knew, they may have once even been human at some point. Whatever the case though, she didn’t think she wanted to get close to them. 

As the duo repeated their song, the alien couldn’t help finding a certain cruelty to it. Despite the tragedy behind the lyrics, they smiled as the words poured from their lips. It was a story they couldn’t get tired of hearing, a ballad of despair without an end. The snow women relished it, as if they were privy to some kind of twisted joke to its character’s grim fates.

If she had the time to consider the song’s words more in-depth herself, it may have struck an even heavier cord in her mind. Escape, however, was more pressing a concern. Hat Kid noticed her own footprints leading back the way she came. Would the snow women see them? If they did, they’d find her immediately. Her only choice was to run when their backs were turned and hopefully reach safety before they caught up to her.

Slowly, as quietly as possible, she eased away from the roots. Then a pair of nimble, frightfully cold hands clasped her shoulders from behind. Her heart leapt into her throat.

“Sisters, look!” exclaimed a soft, feminine voice behind her ear, “It seems our song has attracted a little mouse! Don’t be shy, dear; there’s nothing to be afraid of!”

Dread dug through her skin even more than the snow woman’s icy touch did. The other two abruptly silenced themselves at the third’s call, eyes widening in surprise when they came to rest on the young alien. She tried shaking the first off to run only to instead back away further within the spirit’s arms as the others drew closer. They enclosed around her, gushing over her like children that stumbled across a lost puppy. 

“A little girl! This _is_ a surprise!” a second mused aloud, taking her by the hand and spreading her much smaller fingers within the palm of her own to examine them. Her touch was just as cold as the first’s, as if it meant to absorb every ounce of warmth in her body. “I can’t remember the last time we saw one, can you?”

“Aren’t we lucky!” giggled the third, running her own fingers through one of loose tresses of Hat Kid’s hair, “Such a small, pretty thing… I think I’d like to keep her.”

“Yes!” answered the other, but in a much more jeering tone, “Would you like to stay with us, little girl? Have you come to play in the snow? We could have so much fun together!”

Hat Kid was shivering, both in distress and from the chill that had begun to settle in through her flesh. Her muscles had stiffened, her feet felt frozen in place. She might’ve answered the circling snow women, but they just continued to talk over her to one another. She might’ve fought to escape, but although the first’s grip wasn’t painful it felt piercing all the same, like icicles pinching her through the fabric of her tunic. 

That touch drew her in closer, the snow woman drifting her arms around Hat Kid to pull her into a nuzzling embrace from behind. Long coils of hair drenched a midnight blue cascaded over her as the other moved, and she swiftly grabbed one arm as it looped near her neck. The frost-like etchings on the spirit’s flesh were more prominent now, glistening sharply. As disturbing as the other two, this one wasn’t quite as severe. “I had always wanted a child,” she cooed, “We can’t have any on our own, you know. It’s so very unfair.”

Mistaking Hat Kid’s panic for confusion, the third explained, “A baby rarely thrives within our ice. Either the warmth of new life is too quickly snuffed out or it burns us through. Often both, if the first is not extinguished soon.”

“Fate is too cruel…”

Yet they spoke all of this with the same, placid pleasure they carried in their song. The trio seemed to find greater satisfaction in the idea of taking life rather than giving it. At last, Hat Kid wriggled to break free only to be met with laughter at her attempt. She tried to raise her umbrella to fight back, but the arms encased around her kept her from raising her own.

“What’s the matter, poor dear? Just stay with us a while,” the first grinned, “We won’t harm you! If we did, we might upset our darling Moon. Though how you managed to trickle away from his sight is beyond me.”

She grimaced as the grip around her quickly turned sharp before the snow woman at her back abruptly released her with a weary sigh. “Nevermind Moon,” she said with a pout in her voice, “She’s already been marked by those horrid fire spirits.”

At once, the disturbing adoration from seconds ago turned to disgust in their eyes. They retreated from her, each maintaining their circle, but with an averse, scrutinizing eye now. Whatever they thought of her, she actually felt relieved from the change. She just didn’t know what they meant. She steadied herself as she gripped her chest with her free hand, now free to speak as they looked at her in wary silence, “What are you talking about?”

The thought of being ‘marked’ by anything didn’t settle well for her. Although she hadn’t come across any fire spirits in the Horizon, she’d met plenty back in Subcon. She’d even gone deep within their own domain, the Firelands, and might’ve been a prisoner there were it not for her quick-thinking and an insane amount of luck. If that adventure had upset the foxes enough to target her, then she might have trouble the next time she ever visited the forest.

However, their answer was a far-cry from those particular worries. One of the snow women folded her arms across her chest. “They’ve marked you as theirs, so that _they_ can keep you in their awful home of fire and smoke,” Hat Kid almost begun to search herself before she continued, “ _We_ can see it down to your soul, and only the spirits that made the mark can remove it.”

A mark on the soul… No wonder she’d never noticed a thing like that: It was probably something that only spirits could find by feel—as a way of warning other supernatural beings whenever they saw a mortal creature as ‘theirs.’ She’d heard that before…

Now though, a part of her wondered if that was how she’d managed to stumble across the Horizon when she did. The Firelands were one thing: It was a place ruled by the fire spirits and they’d lured her into it. However, all types of spirits made their home here. If it could be accessed by any of them, then maybe anyone ‘marked’ by them could enter as well—even if they weren’t ghosts.

“Get them to remove it or run along, back to dear Moon,” the second snow woman waved a hand at the alien dismissively, “We don’t want any fiery sorts here.”

The trio started to leave. For a moment, Hat Kid just watched them, and then she eyed her frozen-over surroundings. This was their territory. Maybe there was a Time Piece here, but if she wanted to find it—as much as she recoiled the thought—she’d probably need their help. She took a few steps after them, “Wait, I’m looking for hourglasses! Have you seen any?”

They barely paused to cast her a sidelong glance, “What if we have?”

Since it had worked at least once before, and since they raved so much about him, she decided to press the phantom’s authority. “Moonjumper said I could get them: He’s been showing me where to find them. If you like him so much, then help me look for one.”

To her surprise, however, they just laughed. It was both a lovely and ugly sound; a warble like a bubbling spring tainted with poison. “Oh, we _adore_ Moon!” one of them exclaimed.

“He just doesn’t like _us_ very much!” chuckled another, “What a shame, really. We’d love for him to come and play sometime.”

The third leveled her eyes half-mast at the child, a hand raised to her mouth in thought. “Tell you what, little girl: How about we make a trade? Moon doesn’t like it when we visit him, but he seems to let you go where you please. Fetch us a memento of our dear Moon from inside his palace and we’ll tell you where to find your hourglass.”

Hat Kid’s brows furrowed. They wanted her to steal from him? _Why?_ Surely Moonjumper would be angry with all of them if she did. How could she anyway, after how much he had done to help her? Maybe she could just find the Time Piece on her own, but from their smug smiles, she doubted it would be easy. Even if she wasn’t already desperate, she got the feeling that if she didn’t agree they’d just make her search that much harder out of spite. Of course, she could just tell Moonjumper, but then she wasn’t even supposed to be in this part of the forest, meeting them, either. She picked at her fingers nervously.

“Anything at all will do,” the second encouraged, “but if you try to trick us, we’ll know!”

She did have half of that spyglass that she found in the caves. She didn’t think they’d take the broken device though. Besides that, the goblins had already entrusted her with it—the only reason she hadn’t already given it back to Moonjumper was because she wanted to try to find the other piece and fix it.

Hat Kid drew a fist at her side, saying nothing and darting off back the way she came to the sound of their laughter behind her. She wouldn’t give them an answer. If possible, she’d come back later, find a way to sneak around the snow women, and get the Time Piece on her own. So long as they weren’t lying about there even being one anyway…

The child wiped her nose with her sleeve as it started to run. _Maybe having ice powers is some kind of sign,_ she thought with dismay. _It’s like anyone who has them is a cold-hearted weirdo!_ First Vanessa, then these three. She’d rather face any of the other spirits and ghosts she’d already met several times over before running into them again. She just hoped she had the choice. 

Meeting the snow women actually ruffled her a bit. Beyond the panic of the moment, she didn’t like their superior, jeering attitudes. The more she thought on it, the more heated she got and the more she regretted not raising her umbrella against them when she had the chance. She rubbed at her face, somewhat relieved when she crossed back over into the thriving portion of the forest. It was good to be away from them and begin to thaw out of the cold that had settled over her body.

She’d just been thinking about how to warm herself up when a strange flash of red appeared ahead of her along the trail. The child had come across them before, but never for more than second and so she was never able to tell what they were. Her extended stay in the Horizon kept her on edge though, and the day’s events made her more vigilant than ever. This time, as the brilliant red light appeared before her, Hat Kid almost instinctively dove behind one of the trees out of panic.

Again though, her curiosity got the better of her the moment she calmed down. This one’s glow lasted longer than the others. Carefully, she peeped out to see a strange, ovular shape manifesting from the light. It was hard for her to tell what she was seeing, and she crawled on her stomach to move over to a nearby bush for a better vantage point.

By the time she got up on her knees to take a second look, she’d nearly missed it. It looked like an eye, but unlike any creature’s that she had ever seen. It was a solid, vivid red with a black iris fidgeting around in a frantic search, set within the bark of another tree before blinking out of existence.

Hat Kid didn’t know if she was just seeing things again or if there really was someone or something watching the Horizon. After it was gone, she just ran back to the castle.


	13. Act Four: The Lost and Found, part ii

She found Moonjumper in some kind of study. Contrary to the usual attentiveness he gave his surroundings, he didn’t notice her when she first came in. He seemed distracted, giving her a moment to look around before approaching him.

The room didn’t seem anymore furnished than the much of the rest of the castle, but there were shelves lined with numerous books across the walls to her right, encompassing a large desk. They seemed old and well-preserved, with strong spines and thick, heavy bindings. None of it was light reading: _The Art of Architecture, Essays on Old Magic, Law and Philosophy of the Ancient World, The Lexicon for the Supernatural._ To the left was a table decorated with a vase filled with luminous flowers and a doorway connecting to an adjacent room. Ahead of them was another, wide balcony left open to allow the Horizon’s dim, natural light to pour inside.

He actually jumped a bit when he finally noticed the child, shoulders jolting in surprise and sharpened fingers jerked into defensive, clawing pose before he relaxed a second later. A mix of childish mischief and concern bubbled inside her. On one hand, Hat Kid thought it was funny to catch the phantom ruler so off-guard: On the other, nothing ever really did, so it was strange for him to be that distracted in the first place. Regaining his calm stature, Moonjumper hovered over to her, “Ah, child! How did your search go? Any luck?”

She shook her head. For a second, she forgot about the spirits and the red eye she’d seen in the woods as she asked, “Are you ok?”

Moonjumper paused before answering. It was the kind of hesitant silence adults always fell into when a child walked in on something that was beyond their age or knowledge. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said at last, “I’m just worried about one of my younger subjects. They’ve run off.”

That only raised her curiosity. Hat Kid had seen all kinds of ghosts lingering in the Horizon, but not many kids—and what few there were seemed to be older than she was. “What happened? Are they alright?”

“They’re going through a bit of a tantrum,” he explained, folding his arms across his chest, a hand lifted under his chin in thought, “Death tends to be harshest on the young. Typically, I give newcomers some time to adjust, but this has gone on for a while. The others lost track of them. As weak a soul as they are, I’m worried something might happen to them.”

“Maybe I can help.”

He was quick to turn her offer down, “No, don’t get involved. I’ve already sent out more watchmen: I’m sure I’ll have news soon.”

For all the different things people said about him and as strange as he was, the young alien could admire his precise leadership. If the Horizon was a chessboard, then he was likely a player that observed all of the pieces before considering each move—and had each move planned two-steps in advance. Although now she was just curious and concerned herself about the lost soul.

“Can I watch you work then?” she clasped her hands together in almost pleading fashion.

The request seemed to surprise him a bit. The phantom stared back, somewhat tilting his head at her, before answering with even more reluctance, “I’m not sure… Wouldn’t you rather continue your search or play in your room? We can talk later.”

It felt like he was trying to deflect her. Hat Kid pouted a little. Noticing her disappointment, Moonjumper shuffled back a step to consider her carefully. 

“There really isn’t much for you to see,” he continued, “I’m afraid all I can really do for now is wait, so my hands are tied.”

“Then I’ll wait with you,” she insisted. The young alien honestly didn’t have anything else to do to keep her occupied: She’d combed the Horizon so often for Time Pieces that all she could do was wait around herself. Besides that, her room was too quiet and isolated, and her free time with her toys was becoming too stale. All this time here though and she really hadn’t done much with Moonjumper herself: She wanted to learn more about him.

Unless he outright barked at her to leave, she wasn’t going to be easy to sway. Maybe he knew that, because his shoulders rolled in a giving fashion as he moved back toward the balcony. He waved at her to join him and she followed along. It was much wider than the one in her room, with flowers growing in a tangle of greenery along the outer walls. She took a moment to examine the delicate blossoms before jogging back over to the baluster—leaning over it to gaze down at the village below.

It felt a lot smaller up here than it did on the ground. Emptier too, with clear streets all save for the rare, tiny streak of color that marked one of the town’s ghostly denizens as they passed through. Overall, it was a good vantage point: She could make out most of the town all the way to the edge of the woods and the wastes far away were an expansive, mostly flat range that dwindled on into nothing. There was probably an even better view higher up in the castle, with full-sight on all of the surrounding areas.

As her gaze turned to the wide stretch of ‘sky,’ she wished the celestial spirits would make another appearance. It would’ve been a good place to watch them too. For the second time that day, Hat Kid thought of the broken spyglass. She felt more eager to fix it than before, wondering what all could be seen from up here. Maybe that’s what Moonjumper used it for.

All while she explored the scene below with her eyes, Moonjumper said nothing—arms folded behind him, gazing into the distance as they shared the view. He was as silent as the stone wall to their backs, the subtle dip of his chin the only indication of his alert watch from behind the mask. 

Hat Kid observed him quietly for a moment longer. To her, he didn’t seem quite like the ruler most of the ghosts or spirits praised or the madman a handful of others claimed he was. She still wasn’t really sure what to think of him yet. It was kind of amazing really, how little she knew about him for the time she’d been here.

“Moonjumper?” she raised her voice softly and he turned his head to face her, “How did you even get to be the prince of the Horizon? I mean, you got here just like everyone else… didn’t you?” She didn’t think he was much older than most of the Dwellers, just maybe that he died around the same time as they did. For all she knew, he might’ve been a Dweller himself, chosen to rule since Vanessa went crazy and Snatcher hid his true identity from them.

He stayed quiet for another, long moment, then appeared to slowly nod to himself. However, she was surprised when he answered her with a question of his own, “Ask me, my child, what do my eyes gaze upon?”

She followed his stare back to the view below them. Nothing had changed: It was just as still and quiet as ever. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she wasn’t sure how to reply.

He began to explain with his usual calm, a finger raised to direct her attention to the wastes, “When I first stumbled upon this place, I was hardly more than a vapor—and this area was just more of the same, barren emptiness you see in the distance. I lingered near the waypoint connected to my former home in the mortal world, but whenever I went back, well… it brought too many painful memories. So, I made the best of what I could here.

“Much like spirits in their own domains, a mortal soul—if strong enough—can learn to bend the supernatural energies channeled through the Horizon to their will,” he paused absentmindedly, staring at the palm of his hand, “You must’ve noticed, when you arrived here, that the Goats’ territory is marked by their design: Structures fashioned like fragments of their original homeland. This is my territory, manipulated according to _my_ design.”

Moonjumper reached out to a vine stretched along the baluster from the mass of foliage along the wall. To Hat Kid’s astonishment, a large bud suddenly began to grow at its end, petals unfurling at a rapid rate until it had bloomed in-full. Just as quickly, the vine itself snapped and braided itself into a firm coil almost like a corsage. The phantom picked it up and offered it to the child, sliding it onto her thin wrist as she admired the gift with an amazed twinkle in her eyes.

She quickly pieced together what he meant. Again, she leaned over the railing, seeing it in another light and more excited than before. “You mean you _made_ all of this?!” she grinned with intrigue, “The town, the forest… everything?!”

He fought back amusement, but there was a bit of pride in his voice, “To a point, yes. I shaped the landscape as I saw fit, worked the ether to my will—all fitted to the Horizon’s unique conditions. When I said I lived and breathed this Horizon, I meant it. This may as well be an extension of myself. Because of that, the spirits began to call me the ‘Moonjumper,’ a mortal made a part of this celestial realm. I’ve kept watch over the souls that find their way here ever since.”

“Can you show me more?” she was eager now, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. She’d seen powers similar to his—Snatcher’s deep attachment to Subcon Forest gave him a lot of control over its wildlife and he’d even sometimes bent the miasma that flowed through the place under his control—but this was on another level entirely. She wanted to know more.

Moonjumper chuckled in his throat, then raised his hands outward. It was strange, seeing the ether manifest into a physical form—like watching stardust spiral from the darkness of space. It pulled itself together into a silvery form: A funny-looking, bipedal creature with large tufts of fur for two long ears and a tail, four pointed teeth, and swirly eyes. With a flick of his wrist, it summoned a hat and umbrella much like Hat Kid’s own before giving her a small, jovial bow. The child laughed with delight, watching as it mutely scampered around her, climbed onto the baluster to launch itself in the air, then glided slowly back down with the umbrella extended above it. 

“This is hardly more than a party trick,” he told her as the expressive phantasm landed back on its feet, patiently waiting for another command and looking back and forth between the ghost and girl, “I can’t create life, of course, but it does have its own purposes.”

Still giggling, Hat Kid reached out to shake the creature’s hand. It enveloped her fingers with its much smaller paws, returning the gesture zealously. It didn’t feel real though, like the hands clasped around her own would slip away like a fine mist.

Before Moonjumper could show her anything else, a green Dweller suddenly tore through the study—fading through the door with a somewhat panicked cry, “ _Sir!_ ”

Moonjumper snapped his gaze in the other ghost’s direction, the animal-like figment dissipating back into ether with a burst as the former lost his concentration and the latter skid to a halt. Hat Kid pictured that, if the Dweller was alive, he’d be out of breath. His fox-mask bobbed precariously, as if it was close to being thrown off his face by the momentum he’d bulleted in the room with.

In contrast to that though, he suddenly turned meek, fumbling with his words, “W-we think we found him…” His gaze drifted subtly to Hat Kid, then he added, “Some of the others said he found one of those hourglasses…”

The mood instantly shifted from its calm atmosphere to a serious one. It was clear that they were talking about the lost soul Moonjumper was looking for. The phantom ruler glided back inside the study as he turned to his subject, “Where…?”

“The wasteland, w-we think…” he answered reluctantly, “We lost track of him after he went over the ravine. The others are still looking.”

“Show me.”

Just like that, both ghosts veered one-by-one out of the room and down the winding halls outside. Hat Kid chased after them, but they’d already sped out of sight by the time she opened the door. Her lips twisted into a firm, determined line and she kept up the pursuit. Even if Moonjumper told her not to bother, even if he was more than capable of handing the situation on his own, she couldn’t stand by if a Time Piece was at stake.


	14. Act Four: The Lost and Found, part iii

The ravine proved to be an unsurpassable obstacle for her alone. Or so she first thought. It took a lot longer, but Hat Kid found a path near the mountainside to steadily maneuver around the steep drop to the wasteland on the other side—using levitating chunks of rock as platforms to help her across. With her Sprint Hat, she was able to regain some of the time she had lost. 

Although the area looked so much the same the it was hard to tell by sight alone, she was far from where she’d initially met Moonjumper. Here, there were no red ribbons to guide her path and she would have to be mindful not to lose her own way. She didn’t see anyone nearby, which was good since it meant that the ghosts were probably covering more ground on their search elsewhere; however, Moonjumper didn’t know that she’d followed after him either. If she couldn’t find her way back, that was probably bad…

The child reached into her pack and unwrapped a slice of bread leftover from her visit to the bakery to munch on as she looked around, glad that she’d thought ahead to bring something along. She’d kick herself if she let the Horizon’s ether get to her, after all the other dangers she’d faced. 

It was impossible to tell how far the wasteland stretched on. As far as the eye could see, beyond the rocky passes, it seemed to disappear straight into the void. There weren’t many places for anyone to hide: She just didn’t know how far the ghost might’ve gotten with her Time Piece either.

She didn’t think—or at least hoped—that he hadn’t used it yet. Her anomaly-tracking device hadn’t gone off, so that was a good sign. It was likely that the ghost didn’t know how to use the mystical relic, but given how quickly Mustache Girl had figured it out after stealing them from her ship, Hat Kid wasn’t about to leave anything to chance by wasting time. She moved with a quick tread, alert for anything that might disturb the still atmosphere, too aware of her own footsteps against the hard earth.

She must’ve been walking for an odd twenty minutes before she heard something rolling back and forth across stone. The isolated noise was easy to track: She followed it over a steady incline to the lip of a large crater several meters wide—vacant except for the dark, sickly-yellow figure huddled in its center and the shining hourglass in his grasp. The specter seemed grotesquely deformed: Rather possess the usual snake-like shape, the arch of his back was littered with huge bulbs similar to boils and the rest of him caked and curled in overlapping rolls of ectoplasm.

Had Kid wasn’t an expert on ghosts, but in no way did he match what little Moonjumper had told her. He was supposed to be a child, but the sickly-looking being was at least double her size. Since he hadn’t noticed her yet, she kept back for a moment longer, watching as he fumbled with the Time Piece. It was obvious that he didn’t know how to use it. He was trying to figure it out though—desperately—and she was worried it wouldn’t be much longer before he settled for shattering the relic.

She skid down into the crater from behind him, her umbrella drawn at the ready. She didn’t want to fight for it, but she got a bad feeling she’d have to. It didn’t stop her from trying to pacify the situation though, “Excuse me?”

The ghost instantly froze at the sound of her voice, then snapped his gaze around to fire an ugly glare in her direction. His eyes narrowed at her coldly, their near-white glow piercing in the dim light. To her disgust, the swells along his body seemed to roll in place whenever he moved.

Hat Kid did her best to ignore the sight of him though and instead just pointed at the Time Piece, “That’s mine: I need that back… please.”

He hunched further forward with a snarl, saying nothing and curling around the hourglass like a hungry dog guarding its meal. He replied with a loud, viscous bark that echoed all too similarly to the demonic, echoing tones Queen Vanessa spoke in, “You’re not dead… Who _are_ you?!” 

“A friend. Moonjumper and the other ghosts are looking for you.” She held a hand up passively, taking step after careful step closer to the young phantom. “They’re worried. You probably shouldn’t be out here by yourself. Just give that to me and then we can go back to the village together, ok?”

Even her best efforts wouldn’t be able to calm him. He was too angry, too caught up in his own turmoil of emotions to listen to reason from anyone. “I don’t _want_ to go back!” He pounded the earth hard with a heavy, clawed hand, “I don’t _want_ to be here! Go away, get away from me!”

Hat Kid tried being more direct, her expression shifting a little harder with determination, “I can’t just leave you with that hourglass.” She shuffled closer, shaking her head, “I don’t think you understand: It’s dangerous—”

The ghost child cut her off, “I know what it can do! I heard the spirits talking about it! This thing can change the past, can’t it? I could go back to before I ever died…” He hunched lower, curling even further around the Time Piece. “What do _you_ need it for anyway? You’re still alive—you shouldn’t even be here! All I want is a chance to save myself, that’s all! So just go!”

She bit her lower lip. It wasn’t like she couldn’t sympathize with him: She did. She’d had enough close calls on this planet alone where she’d nearly lost her own life and a part of her still couldn’t imagine crossing that point of no return. The fact that there were ghosts only made everything more confusing to her. She didn’t know what he was going through. But she knew no matter what, there was no coming back from it. And she couldn’t let him use the relic.

She’d seen the Time Pieces’ power, had learned about them all her life: They could rewrite history yes, but never without a cost—there was always some cause and effect. They often ruined more lives than they saved. They could destroy _worlds,_ like they’d nearly done after Mustache Girl had broken into her ship. In the very least, the want for their power could drive a person insane. True, at times she’d been tempted to use them, but the only reason she had any personally was because they’d become a standard power source for her world. If she ever _thought_ of using them with so much as a fraction of their true ability, well… She’d be in enough trouble for losing them, especially if she couldn’t manage to get each and every one back.

“I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re wrong if you think changing time can fix anything,” she insisted, “You don’t know what it will do.”

“I just got sick…” The ghost had turned his attention anyway from her, his voice becoming somber, but desperate as he focused on the Time Piece once more, “I was sick, that’s all. If I can go back to before that, then…”

He clasped the Time Piece tightly in one hand, a flicker in his eyes confirming what Hat Kid dreaded he’d do: He was going to try smashing it. She rushed forward as he raised it above his head, temporarily forgetting his incorporeal state. Lucky for her, in order to focus on maintaining his grip on the hourglass, he seemed to forget that too. She didn’t know how long he’d been dead, but apparently not long enough to fully master his abilities. The young alien barreled into him, jarring him enough to knock the Time Piece from his grasp.

It started falling before she could grab it. She lifted her knee up to try to catch it, all this did though was cushion the fall a bit before it rolled along the dirt. Before she could collect it, the ghost slammed in front of her. Although forced to leap back, Hat Kid made sure to keep more distance between them than needed in order to give herself some time to quickly switch out her hats.

Balanced on one fist, he lashed out at her with the back of his hand. She jumped out of the way a second time just as she felt the rim of her Brewing Hat with her fingertips and pulled it out. She didn’t still know if she’d matched Snatcher’s recipe perfectly, but she felt confident enough that it would work at least for a short time. The girl had already grabbed one of the attached vials of blue potion before her feet had touched the ground, chucking it at him a second after. She doubted he was anywhere near as strong as Snatcher or could mimic the spells that Subcon Forest’s ruler had mastered, but that didn’t mean she was going to hold back.

The ghost cried out in a mix of confusion and pain as the vial exploded against him, blinding their immediate surroundings in a thick haze. Taking advantage of the cover, Hat Kid ran toward him again and lashed out at him across the chest with her umbrella. He wasn’t braced for the follow up attack and she was able to rebound from it with ease.

Whatever satisfaction she felt at her early success quickly dwindled, however, as he pounded the ground with his fists—causing it to erupt around them. It expanded too quickly: Hat Kid was knocked back and thrown off her feet. The air momentarily rushed from her lungs upon impact, temporarily stunning her.

She looked up and rolled out of the way to avoid being pounded into the dirt as he slammed a fist down again. Still in a crouch, she grabbed a second vial and tossed it into his face, diving through the blue mist to before he could attempt to crush her again. Hat Kid’s feet skid along the earth, kicking up dust, as she looked back behind her. The ghost, however, had already vanished by the time the haze cleared.

Before she could question where he went, he’d looped behind her, fading up from the ground. The child had been in enough fights—and the attack was similar enough to one of Snatcher’s—that her body lunged out of the way by memory before she’d even really thought of moving as he swung his tail in a wide arc. It really did seem like he could only rely on physical hits, too new a ghost to have mastered much beyond control over his intangibility and levitation.

Again though, she couldn’t dismiss him easily as the weak ghost she’d been told about. His tantrum had broken apart some of the rock surrounding them, and the next time he punched at the ground it sent the loose debris flying into the air. Hat Kid scrambled to weave around the falling stones that rained over her. As she raced to dodge them, he swung his tail at her once more—catching her against her midriff to throw her back against the crater’s inner wall.

She flipped out of the way before he could lash out again, her eyes briefly scanning the ground to see if the Time Piece was still ok. Much to her relief, after glaring through the dust, she spotted it rolled along the other side of the crater—far out of reach, but thankfully apart from most of the fighting as well. The heard the nearby eruption before she saw it the time, jumping to avoid the rolling wave of rock and waiting steadily as the ghost vanished underground once again. When he reappeared, she was ready for him: She bound across the ruined landscape and struck him in the side with her umbrella. He wildly swung to counter her, but missed by a hair as she dropped back to her feet. 

The next time he lashed out with his tail, she dove under it, dropping to her knee before reaching up to her hat’s crown for another vial. Again the girl aimed for his face, meaning to blind him once more, but he was prepared this time, blocking the explosion with his arms to cover his eyes and swiping part of the mess away to the ground. He was already pretty stained with the potion’s rich, azure color though. Somehow, it made him appear even more grotesque: It looked as if the ‘boils’ were oozing with the sticky liquid.

Aside for a few extras she had in her bag, she was she was also out of vials now too. She would have to wrap this up. As the ghost drove her fist down toward her again, she ran back over to the wall and used it to propel herself higher into the air, hitting him in the head and then dropping back down on the other side. Soon though, the hail of rock returned even worse than before as he flung his full weight into the ground in a fit of anger. Everything seemed to quake around them as she dodged both the flying and rolling waves of debris in a confusing dance of quick leaps and urgent tumbles along the broken earth.

Hat Kid tried to get close to him again, but he swept out of sight before she could, swiftly reemerging from behind her to finally crush her before she spun to the side of the punch. Kicking off the dirt, she turned used the moment’s delay needed for him to recover his momentum to drive the final hit home—barreling against his chest and sending the ghost sprawling back.

He curled around himself, shaking and shivering with a pained groan, but beyond that didn’t get back up. The young alien took the opportunity to catch her breath claiming the Time Piece, then looked at him again over her shoulder in wonder as his already deteriorated form gradually began to shift and shrink before her eyes. Forced out of his rage and severely weakened, the young ghost’s body took a shape more fitting to who he was—if still possessing a sickly yellow color splattered with the blue potion. He looked just like the Dwellers, but much smaller than average—about half her size—and without a mask of his own. His body also wavered, his translucency shifting weakly.

Hat Kid braced the Time Piece against her chest, walking over to him but making sure to keep her distance in case he changed back. He didn’t though, he just began to sob. Even after everything, it was hard to see him as anything else than another kid, who’d thrown a tantrum and was just now breaking down after it. He didn’t’ look at her, but he did speak in a bitter, grief-worn voice.

“I was sick is all...” he kept insisting, “Just sick… I just want to go back.”

For a second, she thought of leaving him, finding the others, and just letting them handle the situation. She was just a kid herself and didn’t know how best to comfort him. The part of her that wanted to kept her there though, and she asked somewhat hesitantly, “Do you even know how you got sick?”

He didn’t answer her, keeping his gaze on the rock beneath him. There was silence.

For a moment, she shuffled from foot to foot nervously, then continued with a shake of her head, “I don’t think there’s anything you could’ve done anyway—definitely not for something like that. And you can’t just change time to make things better. You’ve gotta move forward. That’s all anyone can do…”

He didn’t respond to her then either. Fortunately for the both of them, help had at last arrived. Two Dwellers, one green and the other red, appeared from the top of the crater. The red Dweller swiftly departed—likely to tell Moonjumper—while the other glided down to them and over to the young ghost’s side. The shamrock phantom helped him up and checked him over first before looking at Hat Kid and giving her a grateful nod.

“Thank you for your help,” the elder said in a masculine, if soft-spoken manner, “I don’t know how you got over here though… Do you need help getting back?”

Hat Kid answered with a simple shake of her head. She could get back to the castle the way she came faster than if she waited for the Dwellers to bring back the swing and carry her over the ravine. She waited a moment longer to watch the two go, hoping that the young ghost would be ok, then slid the Time Piece into her bag after briefly inspecting it for damage.

She wasn’t feeling her best after the fight. Hat Kid took out her canteen and the last Dweller cake leftover from her visit to the bakery as a light snack to help clear her head. Then she steadily began to tackle the incline out of the crater. For just a second, she marveled at the overwhelming quiet that had fallen immediately after the battle. It didn’t surprise her anymore, but it did give a new meaning to the phrase ‘as silent as the grave.’ 

What did startle her were the figures she found herself facing as soon as she’d climbed back up to level ground—enough to freeze her in place with a bewildered and scared look. There were _six_ of them now, but unlike the previous ones she’d seen, they were all shadow-like in form and taller than any person could actually be. Even still, she knew each of them by name, and what was what scared her most.

Worse still, they spoke to her. “You should have been back weeks ago!” barked an older man’s disembodied voice in an angry, stern tone, “We _know_ you lied to us! How could you lose the Time Pieces?!”

Hat Kid shuffled back, confused, hurt and guilty. She didn’t understand why they were here in the forms they took: Just that everything felt very much real. _I didn’t mean to! I’m trying to get them back!_ She wanted to explain herself, but the words caught in her throat.

“I _warned_ you that she was a failure!” another voice sneered—a woman’s this time, fiercely waving in the girl’s direction, “Absent-minded, immature, unprepared—and now look! Countless Time Pieces are in jeopardy because of _her!_ ” 

“How disappointing…” sighed another man, although younger and suaver than the first, “This is a mark beyond her family—but against the entire fellowship.”

“How could you think that _she_ could be a clocksmith?!”

“She’s nothing like her sister.”

“…breaking every code in violation…”

“…she didn’t even tell us…”

Their voices seemed to build in her ears as a rising cacophony of harsh, grating noises, all furious with her. She covered them to dry to drown the sound out to no avail, closing her eyes tightly shut and fighting to keep her breath steady. It was hard to know what was happening—it was impossible to think! And in the end all Hat Kid could do was mutter a simple phrase in a pleading mantra:

_“I’m sorry… I’m sorry!”_

She gasped as a pair of cold hands firmly gripped her shoulders, snapping her gaze behind her to find Moonjumper’s masked face staring down at her own. It took her moment to recollect herself enough to calm down and fully register his presence. When she looked around them, the shadows had already gone, seemingly having vanished as soon as he appeared. Although she still couldn’t see beyond the mask’s permanent smile, she felt something much sadder behind it. He held onto her in a way that was meant to comfort. 

Overwhelmed, she blinked back tears and pulled her lips into a firm line before enveloping her arms around Moonjumper’s waist in a tight hug. She didn’t’ really think about it: She just wanted something to steady her. At first, the phantom prince went sharply rigid at the embrace. Soon enough though, he relaxed enough to meekly return the gesture and give her a consoling pat on the head.

It seemed like they would be there for a while, as Hat Kid struggled to fully calm down after what she had seen. She had no idea why it happened, but Moonjumper seemed to know immediately. After a long pause, he drew in a slow breath in a mute, drawn out sigh, “The Horizon is unique to other spiritual realms, you know. From the fact alone that it works as a limbo. This is supposed to be a place of spiritual healing, so lost souls can let go of their burdens before they carry on to the afterlife.

“However, sometimes…” and here he paused to find the words, “this place tries to _force_ that healing upon its denizens. They’re not real, but it can make them see visions of whatever weighs down their souls the most…. What did you see?” 

Hat Kid didn’t want to answer, or even think about it. It was taking enough effort to process his explanation. Instead, she balled the fabric of his coat tighter within her hands and shook her head against his chest.

A second later, she felt him gently nudge her chin up so she’d look at him. “Since you’re alive, I didn’t think that the Horizon might affect you in this way,” he continued in a soft, somber tone, “I should have warned you. I’m sorry.”

The child had managed to keep her tears back, but wiped at her face nonetheless, shaking her head a second time. There probably hadn’t been many—if any—living mortals visiting the Horizon before her, so how was he supposed to know? “It’s not your fault…” she muttered, trying to work a small, reassuring grin of her own onto her face. It didn’t really work.

“Do you still have that mask you arrived with?” he asked, tapping the side of his with his finger pointedly, “Our masks are meant to help protect us not only against the spirits—but any spiritual powers. It should help you see things as they are through the Horizon’s ether, so that the visions can’t bother you.”

“Is that why you wear your mask?”

He stilled. Hat Kid had only asked out of curiosity, but now she wondered if she’d said something wrong. Still, Moonjumper gave her a single, small nod in reply. She wondered what kinds of visions bothered him enough to keep the mask on all the time, or if—at this point—he was just more comfortable wearing it than not.

Either way, she didn’t pry any further. It seemed like a touchy subject and she still wasn’t up for sharing what’d she’d seen. Hat Kid looked down and rubbed at her face again. “I think I’m tired,” she said, “and hungry…”

Moonjumper patted her on the head once more, than straightened up with her hand clasped in his own, “Let’s get you back to the castle then. I’d say you’ve earned a good rest.”


	15. Act Five: The Abyss, part i

The ghosts said she looked like Red-Riding Hood. Hat Kid didn’t know who that was—someone from an old story of this world’s—but she took their word for it. The cloak she’d gotten from the seamstress that day was a vivid shade of ruby, contrasting deeply with the simple, old-fashioned, blue dress she wore under it. Honestly, she thought she looked more like one of the Subcon Dwellers themselves, from back before Vanessa’s storm, but she guessed that was fitting. The seamstress had probably made what was standard for the children of the forest back then.

It was more comfortable than it looked, and the seamstress really had seemed ecstatic to make it for her. Hat Kid was glad she was at least able to make someone happy—and get a new outfit out of it—considering that she was still struggling to find the remaining Time Pieces. Her luck just hadn’t improved much and she was still against working with the snow women. That left her to keep wandering around as she had been in hopes of finding another clue.

She’d also started wearing her Dweller mask regularly wherever she went. Just like the phantom prince had told her, it seemed to help ward off the visions—because she hadn’t faced any since she’d kept it on. The visions’ timing was likely random anyway from what she’d experienced, their only constant being when she was alone or her thoughts idle, but she wasn’t going to risk it. She had enough going on trying to get the Time Pieces back to consider the things she’d seen or their weight against her.

Although she didn’t feel like she should be given the spiritual energies that dominated the Horizon and her time exploring the Goat’s domain, the girl was also half-amazed by what all the mask revealed. There was a whole other network of alleys, nooks, and hidden alcoves both within the town and forest that she couldn’t normally access. She was able to find a trove of pons and other items because of that. It doubly made her wish that she’d been wearing it more often from the start.

Her feet traced the rocky, unkept path to the mines. By then, the goblins had gotten used to her and she’d checked the outside of it multiple times. There was little more than rock and the deep drop into nowhere marking the edge of Moonjumper’s territory. She hadn’t investigated far _inside_ though, and it wouldn’t hurt to give it another look.

She kept an eye out for anything unusual as she moved. The landscape was just as still as ever though. It was the kind of ultimate quiet that could drive some people mad, but she was already used to it: Beyond the twitters and clacks of machinery throughout her ship, it was a quiet heard throughout the vast reaches of space. And it was the kind of quiet that could make a person think about how… truly lonely they could feel. As amazing as it was to see all that she had here, Hat Kid was also eager to get back to the mortal realm: Back to exploring the rest of the planet for Time Pieces, to Cooking Cat and Rumbi, and—eventually—back to her own world.

Thinking about that again made her wonder if there was any truth to her visions. The idea made her stomach knot. As much as she longed to make it back, she knew there’d be plenty of people more than upset with her if they found out she lost the Time Pieces—even if she did manage to get every single one back undamaged. To her people, they were more than just a fuel source: They were magical tools of immense power and the only means of breaking through the perma-rift surrounding her homeworld’s system.

A perma-rift was an extremely rare, but devastating time rift —albeit, the events that spawned the one surrounding her planet were on a _much_ larger scale than a shattered Time Piece. It couldn’t grow beyond its original size, but its effects were immediate: The rift would rip apart whatever it ensnared within a separate reality, locking it in a kind of distorted pocket dimension. The temporal magic that had caused the perma-rift was, thus far, impossible to undo, even after the countless years well before her time that her people had spent trying to reverse it and restore their system to its rightful place in the galaxy. Only ships fueled by Time Pieces could break through that barrier, and fewer still were entrusted with enough to make it to the other side.

If she didn’t get all of the Time Pieces back, Hat Kid doubted she’d be trusted with much of anything again. She’d probably be lucky if her higher-ups didn’t take her ship! Crushing as it already was to think of how her grave mistake would disappoint them, she didn’t think she could bear the additional loss. It was an old bird, but it was still hers.

She’d lied to them. Granted, the initial loss of the Time Pieces had shut off everything in her ship as it was—including communications—so it was more of a half-truth… She told them that her ship had sustained damage when entering this planet’s atmosphere and that she needed time for repairs. They offered to send help and she’d told them she could handle it. It’d been so long since that first transmission though: They had to suspect something and she was due for another message any day now. When the time came, she’d have to tell them something, anything but the real story.

Hat Kid shook her head furiously, puffing her cheeks out in indignation at herself. She had too much to worry about to think on all of that and things _were_ going well. Besides, the mask would help see to it that nothing in the Horizon could take her mind off what was ahead of her.

Like the pair of elk-shaped horns she spotted poking out over some of the boulders a few meters in front of her. She recognized the shape, her step faltering with reluctance before walking straight toward them to round the stones and see the Dweller hiding behind them. Again though, she hesitated. The young alien thought that it was the same ghost that had charged her before along this same path, but he looked a little different. His purple body now had a subtle, red glow around it, matched by the red lines woven around the eyes of his mask—which were fairly hard to distinguish from the mask’s bright patterns of the same color.

Yet, when he spoke, she thought for sure it was with the same voice—if much more relaxed as opposed to the frantic cries he introduced himself with. “Hello there, kid.”

The difference was so jarring that, at first, Hat Kid wasn’t sure how to respond. To be honest, since she hadn’t ran into him again until now, she figured he’d already taken his own advice and fled the Horizon. Meekly, she raised her hand in a small wave in greeting. Her eyes, however, remained fastened on him, perplexed. “Have we… met before?”

For a second, the Dweller tilted his head at her, as though he couldn’t decide that himself, then nodded, “I think we did. Around here actually, right?”

So it was the same ghost. That confirmation only confused her more though. Hands braced behind her back, she shuffled from foot to foot, “You look… different.”

“So do you,” he countered, to which she couldn’t exactly argue.

Still, she pressed further, “You’re _acting_ different.” As freakish as their initial meeting had been, the flip in personality was even more off-putting. Before, he was a bundle of nerves: Now, he was perfectly, disturbingly at ease. She made sure to keep a small distance from him, just in case. “What happened to you? I thought you said you were trying to leave the Horizon.”

As the ghost titled his head, his next words were even more jarring, “Leave? Why would I? It’s the greatest place in the world.” His tail fidgeted a bit and he repeated, “It’s great here…”

Now she was beyond concern. Looking him over, Hat Kid thought briefly of the eye she’d seen manifest in the woods and wondered—given their shared red glow—if that had something to do with it, but then she remembered it was probably just another vision made by the realm to toy with her own mind. Although this was only the second time she’d met this particular Dweller, she didn’t imagine he took his mask off much, so that kind of thing wouldn’t affect him. He could simply be mad, just like what one of the goblins had explained to her. She already kind of believed that…

“That’s not what you told me last time,” she insisted, “Why’d you change your mind all of a sudden?”

The ghost froze, fidgeting again and then curling his tail protectively around himself. His reply came out as broken, slowly processed speech, “I… really… like it... here…”

She kept a brow raised, “What are you doing out this way then? Wouldn’t you rather be in town with the others? And what about Moonjumper? You said you didn’t trust him.”

Given their desolate surroundings, the girl had first thought it odd that the Dweller would linger around this area. However, before, it had made sense for him to keep his distance from him and the other ghosts, acting as a self-exiled outcast. It didn’t really align with his behavior now though, unless the other ghosts were cold enough to keep him out of the village—which she doubted.

He shook his head as she quizzed him, as though the overlaying questions were too much for him, then he answered after a slight pause, “I don’t know… I-I said all of that? I don’t really remember…”

Hat Kid took another couple of steps back. He didn’t remember… Well, she didn’t think she’d forget the scare he gave her when they’d met. What was wrong with him?

“Out here is my post though,” he continued, “I’ve always watched these trails. From the edge of town to the bell tower.”

Now she was even more confused than before. Looking ahead, she saw nothing more than the expansive ruins leading toward both the mines and mountainside. Beyond that… nothing, as far as she knew. There was a large drop similar to the ravine on the other side of the town, but she’d never tried to find a way to cross it. It was too large and too steep a drop, like falling off the edge of the world. In between massive descent and where they were, she’d never once come across something like that. “What bell tower?”

Even he seemed confused by it, because he paused again before replying, “Ah, right. It must have fallen too. Sad, how this all fell apart. It was a beautiful place.”

Really? Not according to Moonjumper. Moonjumper had said that all of this had been a wasteland to begin with; however, looking around at the handful of empty, forsaken buildings woven through the piles of rock, it did make her wonder why he’d leave them this place in the state it was in. Not that any of them looked dilapidated, just abandoned. Vacant and hollow, or half-done, an entire neighborhood that was never finished, much less given occupants.

The longer the young alien looked at the surrounding landscape though, the more a feeling of familiarity trickled again in the back of her mind, as it had throughout the forest and town before. It was a strange case of déjà vu, going against the irrefutable fact that she hadn’t experienced another place like the Horizon, but it snuck up on her no matter how much she shook it off.

The ghost was just staring at her now, as if the whole conversation hadn’t already put her ill at ease. Keeping an eye on him, Hat Kid shuffled around his rock and set herself back on the path toward the mines. “I better go and leave you to your ‘post’ then,” she excused as she kept distancing away from him, “I’m kind of busy anyway, so…”

He merely nodded, “Be careful,” and then turned back to face the way she came from.

His head turned, Hat Kid picked up speed to gain several meters ahead of him along the path before she felt comfortable enough to slow down again, glancing over her shoulder as she moved. She felt silly, but given how he was acting, she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t go through another personality shift and wasn’t sure if she wanted to be around when he did.

And that red glow… There were red ghosts, sure, but she didn’t think many of them could change the color of their own bodies. From what she’d read when she’d peeped at some of Snatcher’s books, a ghost’s physical form often took the color of their soul. She’d barely skimmed that information, however, there were few exceptions to the rule: Being powerful enough to completely control how they materialized, the influence of a strong magic or energy, or a massive shift in personality.

The shift was oblivious, but over the course of just a few days, as calm as the Horizon was overall? That seemed unlikely. Could he have gotten involved with some kind of odd magic then? She didn’t rule out the possibility, not with all of the spirits that lived in the realm. Besides, she’d seen what magic physically could do to people, like Queen Vanessa’s transformation.

Fortunately, she didn’t think it was anything that extreme. Right then though, she had to set her worries for the odd Dweller aside. In minutes, Hat Kid reached the mines, stopping in front of its entrance momentarily to dig inside her bag for her hardhat. She didn’t see any goblins around—they were all likely at work deep within the tunnels—so she just invited herself in.


	16. Act Five: The Abyss, part ii

Although she only passed two goblins by the time she reached the massive chamber she’d fought Tuff in, the young alien could hear the echoing clanks of pickaxes against stone from deeper within the tunnels. The rest of their kind must’ve been hard at work, which gave her every opportunity to explore the empty reaches of the mines. The area was just as dimly lit as before, and she’d already grabbed her hard hat to help guide the way.

She just didn’t know _which_ way to go. There were so many pathways, from the coaster-like minecart tracks to the worn, rocky steps and ledges marking the various levels. It was as much of a maze as anything she’d come across thus far.

Hat Kid flinched at the sound of a bird’s harsh cry, turning to scowl at the caged Dweller crow hanging to her right. She was pretty sure it was the same one she’d seen before, its feathers ruffled irritably as it continued to scream at her from behind the bars. It wasn’t any happier when she walked over to the cage and plucked it off the wall, holding it at arm’s length to keep the crow from trying to bite her.

Whatever natural hatred the crows had for her, she didn’t like them either. However, it couldn’t hurt to have a canary looking out for her while she explored—if it would stop screeching at her for long enough to call out any dangers that she stumbled across. Moving over to a nearby guardrail, she peered down into the depths of the cavern. There were a few torches strung along the walls, but beyond the first couple levels down, it was a descent into sheer darkness. 

Taking a deep breath, she then carefully began to make her way down a crude ladder—her umbrella hooked along her elbow so she’d have a spared hand to grasp the rungs with. She tested her weight against it first, cringing as it groaned under her, but kept going. There was no point in turning back: This was one of the few places in the Horizon she hadn’t thoroughly checked. The crow chirruped at her indignantly as it swung in her grasp.

“Oh hush,” she grumbled, daring a glance down the unsteady path before her, “It’s not like you were doing anything anyway.”

It was a hard trek to manage. For one thing, the ladders were smaller than what she was used to: Goblin size. For another, she wasn’t sure if all of them or the platforms she stepped across were structurally sound. Thirdly, the stupid bird made a point of jarring around in the cage to make a challenge out of keeping her balance. And last but not least were the shadows that quickly surrounded her on all sides. Hat Kid had to go slowly to ensure she wouldn’t fall.

Sadly, caution couldn’t account for bad luck. Soon enough, one weak rung snapped under her foot and she fell back; the sudden slip and the addition of the cage wildly flinging at her side pulled her grasp away from the ladder and dropped her into the abyss. Her umbrella flew away from her and, with a sharp gasp, she scrambled to catch it mid-air all while the crow screeched loudly in her ears.

The girl fumbled with the handle; the birdcage cradled against her chest. Not a moment too soon, her fingers found the button and with a rush of air as its spring released, the canopy shot open above her, acting as a makeshift parachute. It jerked her into an upright position as it caught her, and Hat Kid felt her arms cry out with strain with the bulk of the cage dragging her further down in her other hand. Nevertheless, she maintained a fierce grip on both, gritting her teeth stubbornly.

It couldn’t hold up forever. The longer she descended, the more her umbrella steadily began to give and the faster she began to fall. She tried to direct herself back to one of the nearby ledges, but they were too far off and much of the winding tracks had ended several levels above her. All she could do was brace herself for a harsh landing.

It seemed to take forever and yet came all too sudden at the same time, finally hitting the dusty earth in a sideways roll with both the cage and her umbrella knocked out of her hands. Already dead, the Dweller crow was unscathed, but still furious as it hit the ground—tumbling inside the cage as it bounced along before coming to a stop. Meanwhile, Hat Kid kept still for a moment, frozen with shock.

She gave herself time to drawn in long, deep breaths and run a thorough check through her mind. Was she hurt? No; By some miracle, she didn’t think so. Flat along the ground, she flexed her arms and legs to see if there was any pain. She hadn’t seemed to have broken anything. She reached up at touched the round top of the hard hat as its light flickered shakily, grateful for its protection.

Slowly pushing herself up into a crouch, she raised her head to face the cave ceiling. Even though she knew it wasn’t very bright on the levels above, compared to the darkness that surrounded her, it felt like she was staring into the heavens. Down here, she couldn’t make out anything without the hard hat, and only then by a couple meters ahead of her. Hat Kid spotted her umbrella first, pushing herself the rest of the way up with a grunt and shuffling over to collect it, checking it for damage. She could hear the crow still screeching behind her, a chaotic wave of noise that quickly got on her nerves.

“We’re ok! You can pipe down now,” she scolded it, looking around the stone floor for the cage.

It wouldn’t stop, shrieking endlessly to the point that she covered her ears in attempt to drown it out. It didn’t feel soon enough when she eventually found the shape of the cage hunched on its side in the shadows. It was dented on one end, but otherwise fine. As she considered giving it a good shake and before she could pick it up though, she noticed that the crow’s angry cries weren’t levied at her, not this time. It had its back turned, facing the opposite direction.

Hat Kid raised her head up and the flickering light followed. It was hard to make out at first—it was too massive and, for a second, difficult to tell apart from the rock—but when she did recognize it, she felt a cold terror seep down her back. It was the bones of a giant, humanoid skeleton, exactly like the ones scattered and left to rot across Subcon Forest. These _moved,_ quivering with a subtle rattling sound under the bird’s cries. Before it could wake up, the child quickly grabbed the cage and darted back, urgently searching for some place to hide until she dove behind a mass of boulders and shut off her light. And then she waited, watching in silence until two more lights—the flames of its otherwise empty eyes—burst to life.

She didn’t remember the spirit’s name, only that it was one of the most dangerous. Born from the rage and anguish of lost souls, the negative energy that followed after their deaths manifested into the kind of monstrosity that lumbered before her. It was a mindless spirit, bent on the same devastation it had spawned from.

When she’d asked Snatcher about them—what they were and why there were so many—he’d told her that a number of them had manifested not long after Vanessa’s storm, thriving in the heavy, miasmic atmosphere that fell after it. They attacked anything, including other spirits, the Dwellers, minions, and himself. He’d had to fight them off, and although the ruler of Subcon never told her about those battles, their still burning remains were enough evidence to show that they were fierce enemies to go up against. The ones that remained in Subcon were in a kind of stasis, broken and unmoving until the last of their fire burned out and they crumbled to dust.

 _“Count yourself lucky that they aren’t still hulking around. You’re just the sort of morsel they’d_ love _to sink their teeth into,” Snatcher had also told her with a sick grin, as if imagining it, “They have a bit of a grudge against the living, you see… Nothing would please them more than biting your little head off!”_

As much as he loved to scare her, she didn’t think he’d been joking. Despite all of his mean tricks, she could usually count on him to be _brutally_ honest about the danger she was in, giving her an all too vivid and often unasked for description of her probable demise. That’s how she knew she couldn’t fight it. Even with her blue potions, even if she’d beaten Snatcher himself, if he’d had trouble against them then there was no telling how powerful they could be. Just one glance and she knew she was outmatched by its strength alone. 

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The goliath lifted himself off the ground and scanned over the area in search for her. Daring a glance over the rock, Hat Kid noted with some surprise that the spirit was only half there—in the most literal sense: It was as though someone had cleaved it in two, its lower half missing, let to drag the coil of its limp spine along the earth as it moved. Nevertheless, it still moved somewhat fast.

Her heart leapt in her throat as the crow gave another sudden, shrill cry and she panicked as the skeleton’s fiery gaze fell her way. It made a lot more sense to her now why the goblins used the crows as their stand-in canaries, but this one’s warning had come all too late. Instead, its loud screech was sounding an alarm for the monster. It dragged itself toward them, etching long gashes into the dirt with its hands.

There was no time to think. In a maddened scramble, she felt at the cage and tore the latch open, tossing it away from her, bird and all. As soon as it was able, the crow flew free from the confines of the bars and took to the air. It wove around the skeleton, narrowly missing a swing of its hand as the giant tried to catch it like an insect. The crow didn’t even spare a glance, screeching all the way back up to the higher levels.

Meanwhile, Hat Kid crawled as fast as she could behind another boulder in the opposite direction she’d thrown the cage in. She pressed her back firmly against the rock, scared to breathe. The skeleton watched the crow fly off for a moment longer, then swung its gaze back down at the cage. It grabbed it with a loud thud, raking the metal toward it along the earth, then glanced down hard at it. After realizing it wasn’t anymore than scrap, the monster chunked it over its shoulder with full disregard.

Hat Kid allowed herself a slow, quiet exhale. It really wasn’t very bright… That was good. From what she could tell though, it got around mostly by sound—otherwise it would’ve already pieced together where to find her instead of focusing on the crow. She wondered if it would notice her light. Probably. Either way, she didn’t really want to test it if she didn’t have to.

It was impossible to tell how far the chasm stretched. Her only real option was to go up. There were some ledges nearby, but they were too far out of her reach, even with her double jump and if she were to use the boulders to launch herself higher into the air. The only option that left her with was to sneak out into the open and find something lower to climb from.

She had to go around the spirit.

The girl crawled once more, over to the wall farthest from the monstrosity, then steadily dragged herself up from behind. Back still pinned to the stone, she felt along it to quietly move, step after easy step, with a slow tread. All the while, she kept her eyes fastened on the skeleton. All was silent, save for the pounding of her heart that seemed to bleed into her ears all too noticeably.

She’d only just passed it by maybe two meters when she risked another glance up. That’s when she noticed something glistening above her. She didn’t have to recognize the shape anymore: She just knew it was a Time Piece. A curse slipped out mutely from under her breath and she shook her head in disbelief.

Well… if Vanessa hadn’t stopped her from collecting one, then a lumbering pile of bones sure wasn’t going to either!


	17. Act Five: The Abyss, part iii

Carefully shuffling along the earth s she wouldn’t kick a loose stone by mistake, Hat Kid continued to inch along the wall. There had to be a low enough ledge for her to climb up from somewhere, but it was so dark that she was lucky if she could make out anything in front of her. As it was, the skeleton’s hulking form—minus the wicked glow of its eyes—was hardly more than a mammoth silhouette against a near-black background. She could make out enough of it to know to keep her distance, but not much more. It was still looking for her, combing its elongated fingers through the dirt as though to sift her out.

She felt her way around until, at last, she found a handhold in the rock to lift herself up and climb a couple meters in the air—almost high enough that she could face off against the skeleton. With hurried, muted steps, she crept along the ledge and scaled another overhang in a short, scurried jump. Then she waited, her stomach flat to the earth to help hide herself in case the giant had managed to hear her.

She wondered if she could to use her hat’s light to find her way around without the spirit noticing, at least in short bursts. It was bound to attract attention, but maybe if she was far enough away or just out of its sight, she could time it just right. Either way, it seemed like something she _had_ to risk the more she thought about it. Hat Kid just couldn’t see and she didn’t want to stay with the monstrosity any longer than she had to.

Raising her free hand, she cupped the hat’s torch in a shielding manner to block off what she could. She waited a moment longer, eying the skeleton until its back was turned to her. Then, swallowing hard, her fingers found its switch.

She blinked as the spot ahead became washed in a white light—quickly, but only faintly looking around for her next platform. There was a hook meant for a lamp just above her, and part of a rickety, damaged cart track just past it. In a flash, the girl fired her hookshot upward to swing across. However, the action also sent the light flying around in a wild motion as she dangled in the air, casting its beam in multiple directions.

It got the attention the girl was so afraid of. The skeleton jerked its fearsome gaze toward her, lumbering around just as she released to hook to soar over to the ruined track. Gritting her teeth, she ran. A massive hand swung in her direction and she jumped to the other side, holding back a scream. It missed, but completely destroyed the opposing track in a chaotic clamber of shattered beams and shrieking metal. Hat Kid tucked and rolled upon landing, turning her light off just as swiftly as she ran and skidding into the cover of a nearby alcove. There, she kneeled low against the cold stone and prayed she’d escaped the spirit’s sight.

It seemed to hunt for her through the newly made wreckage, tilting its head and pawing the ground with one hand in a fervent search. This time, the child didn’t bother waiting very long for it to fully look away before she tried to make her escape. It was too close and she wanted to stay out of its reach as much as possible. She made as much distance as she could until the ground beneath her gave way again, nearly causing her to slip. The sound of disturbed dust, however, was muted by the rattling of bones and harsh, slow grinding of teeth.

Hat Kid squinted at the encompassing shadows: She still could only make out shapes until she snuck her torch back on for a brief second. There was a ladder suspended just above her, a few steps back the way she came. She snapped the light off again before retreating, kicking at earth as she tossed herself as high as she could to grab the bottom rung and pull herself up to the next level.

Without daring a glance back, somehow she _knew_ the spirit was onto her! Mentally tracing the way ahead, she thought she could outrun it, but the blurred silhouette of its hand flew at her from the darkness and blocked her path. The stone quaked and she fell back, dragging herself into darkness. The force behind the blow left a deep imprint in the wall several millimeters thick. Its fiery eyes seemed to follow her.

Out of the corner of her own, she saw it move to grab her. Hat Kid threw herself off the ground and made a break for it—lunging over its other hand before the skeleton could recover from its initial attempt to cut her off. She landed on her feet and kept running, tapping her light once more in time to see another hook and swing over to safety on an opposing ledge. There, the ground dropped off and she fell with a sharp gasp, but only a meager distance. The fall tucked her behind a sheet of rock and she scurried further behind it into another alcove to hide herself once more.

Much to her relief, the giant lost her again. The child counted her blessings for the fragments of cover scattered around. The goblins must have dug through this area a long time ago, well before the skeleton moved in. It explained why this section of caverns was devoid of ores, the alcoves formerly making up pits or maybe even tunnels that the spirits had dug to reach the valuable minerals. If it weren’t for the Time Piece above—and the fact that she had no idea where one tunnel might lead, possibly even deeper into danger—she would’ve tried escaping that way. As it was, she had to keep going.

If she could just get out of arm’s reach… Hat Kid climbed back up, finding small notches in the wall by feel to scale even higher and propel herself over to an adjacent ledge. There, she stood exposed She risked another, second-long flicker of light. There wasn’t much room for a running leap, so she strained to throw her weight forward in order to build enough momentum to vault her body onto a long piece of track.

Hat Kid glanced down to make sure the skeleton was looking away before turning on her light again, illuminating the path ahead as she kept going and traced the stretch of rock ahead of her to memory. When the shadows returned, she’d already mapped a path in her mind—following the rest of the track across before it split into two, wrapping around the wall in both directions, but moving in a steady incline to her right. She climbed it, cringing at the groaning boards under her feet. By the time she reached level ground again and the spirit turned to glance her way, she’d already leapt into an abandoned minecart, sinking behind its steel casing.

A mistake she thought she’d soon regret. Metal screeched in rejection, jarred from its long rest. The noise seemed to echo throughout the cavern, and soon twin, deadly fires loomed over her as the spirit craned over. If it she was a level lower, all it would’ve taken to find her would’ve been a quick glance down—the skeleton capturing her in a quick fist with cart and all, torn right from the track. As it was, Hat Kid crushed herself into the bottom of the cart by the off chance the top of her head could be seen over its rim, as if that made a difference considering the gaping opening above her.

Luck remained on her side though. The giant was too short to peer over much of the track itself, nevermind see her, and the fall of a loose beam crashing on the ground below distracted it. The young alien didn’t dare risk moving until she’d gotten another glance of her the path ahead with her light, forced to remain put a moment longer as its skull perked up in response to the beam before ducking back down again. Then, she made a mad dash down remaining section of track, scaling a trio of ledges before she would come to a halt once more.

It was still a horrible waiting game and it reminded Hat Kid all too much of when she snuck into Queen Vanessa’s manor. Granted, she figured Vanessa was the worst of the two, but at least then she had the dim glow of candles and the bright reflection of the moon bouncing off the snow and through the windows to help guide her. Somehow, down here, it felt _more_ like trying to navigate through a void than even the Horizon’s endless stretch of emptiness. It a weary, nerve-wracking pattern: Light on, light off, hide, wait. Sprint into action at a moment’s notice and repeat the next second the coast was clear.

The next ladder was more stable than the first she’d climbed. It led to nowhere though: She had to kick off of it to lunge for more track, firing her hookshot to dangle from the supports and at last daring a glance down. She couldn’t see the bottom and could only just make out the top of the skeleton’s skull below her, it’s eyes still its most prominent feature in the overwhelming darkness. She’d managed to make it out of the monstrosity’s reach. For the first time since her initial fall, she actually felt a spark of success. Hat Kid stuck her tongue out at it. _Can’t get me now, can you—?_

All of a sudden, the skeleton raised its arms and slammed them into the wall. Elongated fingers dug within the rock and the whole area seemed to quake as large chucks of stone broke and fell. It was pulling itself up, _climbing_ after her! Horror filled her eyes as she watched it steadily catch up with only a few motions, its spinal cord dangling limply behind.

Hat Kid flung herself over to the next hook. It reached after her and she screamed, narrowly escaping with its curling fingers swiping against her—catching her by the side. It knocked her through the air and off-course. She opened her umbrella to slow herself down, readjusting her descent. Her quick thinking allowed her an ungraceful landing between a curving set of rails and a wide overhand, the latter of which she swiftly dove to for shelter.

She wasn’t sure if she could afford a slow and careful pace anymore, not when the spirit could so easily catch up to her! She fought off panic, trying to force herself to steady her breathing all while frantically looking for her next route to safety. In the very least, she was high enough that it was _a_ little brighter now. However, she knew that also meant she’d been more exposed the further she climbed.

Would it try following her all the way up? What if it reached the levels the goblins were on? What if it broke through their tunnels, maybe even escaping into the rest of the Horizon? Would the other ghosts and spirits even be powerful enough to stop it? All of that was still just considering if she herself made it out of the chasm alive!

 _Focus!_ Hat Kid ordered herself, swallowing her fear. She bit her lower lip. She could still keep climbing up a few ledges to her right. The Time Piece rested along the opposing wall, just a few more levels above. The skeleton was staring her way, but clearly couldn’t pinpoint her exact location. The next time she used her light, she would have to move immediately after.

She looked for the silhouettes first. There seemed to be two more sets of tracks close-by, one bridging the way back across to the other side and the other leading down a more middle path before disappearing into the shadows beyond her sight. It was hard to tell which was closer. The first was more direct, but she wasn’t sure if she could make it over without getting grabbed mid-run. She scaled the nearly wall as she considered it.

By the time she reached the end of her current path, she still hadn’t figured out what to do. However, as the girl reached for her torch, she paused. Again, the light would instantly give away her position… but why couldn’t she try using that to her advantage? Brows furrowed, she glanced over the set of tracks once more.

A loose plan in mind, she turned the hard hat’s light on again. It must’ve been like a beacon to the spirit—she could already hear the creaking and rattling of its bones as it prepared its own move—but she was too focused on what was ahead to bother. The two tracks actually ran fairly close to each other, but the second just keep running along the wall before splitting off into a second pair, one continuing along the wall and the other dipping back down into the depths of the cavern.

Hat Kid leapt onto the first, darting across as fast as she could go. The giant in turn thrust off the opposite wall to dive toward her, one arm stretched in her direction and the other out to brace itself upon the harsh landing.

She kept her momentum forward until it neared the middle of the chasm, then lurched over to the second track to spin out of the skeleton’s reach. Instead of catching her, the giant’s hand tore through a chunk of the first track, shattering it from railing to supports. Landing in a stumbling crouch, she kept moving for as long as the second path would allow, then jumped again back to the first.

By the time her feet touched the rapidly collapsing course, she had already created a large enough distance to get away from the spirit. It couldn’t attempt a second grab: She was too far off and it needed to brace itself against the rock to stay upright, recovering from its jump as at the walls quaked yet again.

There was no chance to celebrate: The damage was behind her, but catching up. The track too trembled, shaken by both the quakes and destruction. It was falling apart as she ran. The sound of its collapse matched the loud beating of the heart that echoed in her ears.

She reached safety by only a few meters, the beams closest to the wall able to hold up and give her a moment to catch her breath. Hat Kid hadn’t bothered turning off her torch by then: Surely, the skeleton would try lunging back across once it steadied itself. Using a minecart for an extra lift, she propelled off of it to climb to the next level, then the next even as the tremors returned.

The Time Piece was close enough now that she reached its own, wide band of light. The rocks giving her no path to reach it, she made her own. The child leapt from a lower ledge, swung up onto another, nearby track—gapped by little over a meter—and rebounded back to over to the wall. There, she jumped across the remaining overhangs, until, at last, an hourglass shape fit within her grip.

Trouble closed in rapidly behind her. The giant skeleton had once more leapt across the chasm, landing just below her. Hat Kid scrambled to jump back the way she came to reroute her escape, even as those fiery eyes came into view as it lifted its massive, demonic face toward her.

Then, just as quickly, they vanished. The ground hadn’t stopped trembling. Here, the stone was too weak to brace the spirit any longer. It broke apart in its hold and the skeleton fell back, snapping its maw like a final attempt to catch her in its teeth before dropping into the abyss from where it came. Hat Kid pressed her back firmly against the wall, planting her feet apart to keep her balance until the quakes had stopped. All the while, she stared after the spirit into the darkness.

There was a long, silent pause. Whether because it was dead or injured or simply had second-thoughts, she didn’t think it would try climbing out of the chasm again. However, even as high up as she was, she swore she could still see its burning gaze aimed back at her. 


	18. Act Six: The Frozen Foothills, part i

Normally, she could admire the calm with which Moonjumper seemed to regard every situation; however, after coming back to the palace—victorious, but frazzled and disheveled, tired and sweaty, her hair a tangled mess—she expected a bit more of a reaction from him. Instead, he stared at her as she entered the castle’s main hall with the usual, mild tilt of his head. “What happened to you?”

She looked like a wreck: She felt like a wreck. All Hat Kid wanted to do right then was crash in her bed; take a good, long tap; and forget about the monster she just faced. So, when asked that by the prince, her still racketed mind could only form a question of its own reply, “Did you know there’s a _giant skeleton_ in the mines?!” 

He kept his head tilted in a moment’s confusion, then raised it in an alert motion, “Ah! The O-dokoro. I’d nearly forgotten: The goblins awoke it some decades back. I thought we had put it to rest. I certainly never would’ve imagined you’d go so far in and stumble across it.”

That made two of them... “What are we gonna do about it?” She couldn’t hide the stress in her voice. She might have gotten lucky and escaped it, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t make a second attempt at climbing the chasm’s walls later. The thought of the thing crawling out and wreaking havoc on the denizens of the Horizon worried her—and it would be all her fault.

However, if Moonjumper was concerned, he didn’t show it. He hovered over to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. As if he could read her mind, he explained, “It would have some difficulty leaving its pit. It’s damaged, and even if it made it to level ground wouldn’t be able to wriggle its way through the tunnels. By then, the goblins would inform me of its escape and I could face it well before it reaches town. We’re safe.”

Hat Kid just blinked up at him. Seeing that thing in-person, knowing how nigh-indestructible it was from Snatcher’s descriptions… It was amazing how he could manage a cool head even then. He already had a plan in mind, filed away for the unlikely chance he’d need it.

It was no wonder the Dweller’s mistook him for their prince. Moonjumper was like an ideal version of him: Kind, collected, ever braced for whatever storm could come their way. A part of her felt uneasy over the unintended lie, but since Snatcher hid his true identity from them, maybe this ‘prince’ kept their hopes up. The only other leaders they had to turn to was the corrupted queen and equal monster they thought Snatcher was.

The ghost released her, then backed up a step, “You’ll want to regain your strength. I can send something to your room. What would you like?”

“Do you have hot chocolate?” she asked. The tension gone, she felt even more exhausted than before. Her limbs ached and she was drained from the terror that had gripped her during the entire experience.

“I can check,” he gave her a single nod, then instructed, “Get some rest. And please, if you can help it, don’t go somewhere so risky by yourself again.” With that, he turned away and vanished deeper within the castle.

The child rubbed the back of her neck sorely and went the opposite way toward her room. It was still jarring how empty and deathly quiet the palace was, but she was getting better at finding her way around.

So, she had six Time Pieces now… Surely there couldn’t be too many more in the Horizon. Not counting the pair she’d found hiding on her own ship and the extra she’d collected after fighting Mustache Girl, there had been anywhere from eight to ten of them in each of the locations she’d already searched. The Horizon was huge, but she hoped it kept up that average.

Still, with only a few to go, Hat Kid also couldn’t help wondering about the odds of finding them in this place. Would they all _really_ be close-by, or would she have to explore somewhere far beyond the shelter of Moonjumper’s ghost town? It wasn’t ideal… Beyond the fact that it would be like hunting for a needle in a haystack, there was also the issue of food. She could only pack so much and the Horizon’s ether was a constant threat to worry about. If she ran out while she was out there, too far to return to the village and unable to reach the mortal world either, well… She hoped Moonjumper would be willing to take her in as a _permanent_ resident.

Her hunt was going stale, which brought back into her mind the trio of snow women she’d run into days before. If they weren’t just toying with her, then they had a Time Piece hidden within their own territory. To get their help though, they’d told her to steal something of Moonjumper’s—and the very idea of that made her feel guilty.

What was she supposed to do? Hat Kid hadn’t told the prince she’d run into them: She _couldn’t_ tell him that she’d run into them, especially now. He’d kept calm when she’d told him about the skeleton, but he wouldn’t have warned her not to take any more risks like that if he hadn’t been at least a little upset with her. And the snow women said that Moonjumper _hated_ them. With all of the previous warnings she’d had, both from him and a couple of the villagers, meeting them might be the one thing to finally push him over the edge and break that collected nature of his.

If there was any chance of finding just one more Time Piece though… Maybe she’d have to make that gamble. Hat Kid bit her lower lip. She was close to her room now, but if she remembered correctly, Moonjumper’s study wasn’t too far off. Maybe she could find something small, something so worthless that he wouldn’t even miss it.

 _If there’s anything like that to take…_ she looked doubtfully, noting the emptiness the surrounded her once again. A part of her mind was screaming in rejection, ordering her to take the nap she’d promised and abandon the plan. But her feet were already moving past the door to her room, further down the hall, and up a flight of stairs. If she was going to go through with this, she had to be quick about it. Moonjumper was likely in the kitchen by now and he’d send the cups and plates to her room on their own, like usual, but who knew if he’d stumble on her before she could make her way back. She couldn’t let him know what she was up to.

* * *

Navigating through the silent halls by memory, it still took her around ten minutes to find the right chamber. Like everywhere else in the castle, the study seemed untouched. Even though Moonjumper clearly used it often, it was spotless. The desk was cleared, all of the books were lined nearly in exact rows on their shelves, and the flowers on the tabletop stayed in perfect bloom.

Hat Kid actually thought of just taking one of the books, since there were so many, but just as quickly rejected the idea. He’d notice if one was gone, the way he lined them up and seemed to value knowledge. She moved over to the desk, examining its drawers. Papers, quills, ink, nothing of importance. The snow women had said anything would do, but the child doubted that they had office supplies in mind. Most of the papers were blank, and the ones that weren’t were mundane notes: Lists of what gifts some of the spirits had given him and how they were then sent to some use in the town, some sort of calendar to keep track of those entering and leaving the Horizon, notes from various research. The only thing that really caught her eye was a list of names and roles assigned to them, which struck her as odd since Moonjumper already seemed to know everyone in the Horizon and there didn’t seem to be many permanent residents to begin with.

The young alien put everything carefully back the way she found it, unwilling to risk leaving one sheet out of place. Then she looked up and noticed a door she hadn’t before, set in the middle of the opposing wall. It was cast in the shadows, hidden from the light pouring in from the balcony, and there was nothing else near it to catch her eye, so it there was little wonder to how she had missed it the first time. Immediately, she crossed over to it.

Thankfully, the door wasn’t locked, and she shut it behind her in a swift, quiet motion. When she glanced around, Hat Kid found herself in a bedroom—shockingly the most furnished room she had seen in the entire castle. It had to be Moonjumper’s. Like most other chambers, it too had a balcony: Large, twin windows with sheer curtains stood on either side of it, casting the entire space in an ethereal, blue light. She couldn’t help but smile, spotting a telescope at the edge of the wide entryway. Across from her was a wide, two-post, canopy bed with white sheets. The idea of a ghost sleeping seemed a little odd. Apparently, the prince thought the same, because the bed was so well-made it was as if no one had touched it since it had first been set up. A nightstand sat to either side of it, with more of the Horizon’s flowers to the right and some sort of glowing, geode paperweight acting as a kind of lamp on the left—possibly a gift from the goblins. There was another shelf full of books to the side of the door facing the balcony: On the other side, there was an empty fireplace with fresh, untouched candles lining the mantle. In front of it was a plush reading chair, and nearest a second door leading back out into the hall was a wood and porcelain wash basin and wardrobe.

It was strange. The room was clearly made with comfort in mind and was the homiest out of anything else she’d seen, and yet it still felt so impersonal. Everything was too neat, too perfectly in place. It didn’t _feel_ like someone’s room: It felt like a staged set.

Hat Kid checked the shelves first. There was nothing of note: Just more books, although more of these interested her at first glance than the heavy texts in the study did. The nightstands were pitifully empty. That just left the wardrobe. She frowned even as she stepped in front of it. She doubted he had many clothes and he _really would_ notice if she took something like that. Nevertheless, with her search empty thus far, she had no choice but to look.

As she opened the door, the child was taken aback. There were only two sets of clothes inside. One, suspended on the actual rack, was a long cloak a much darker shade of red than what he usually wore. The other, hanging from the door itself, was an outfit she’d actually seen once before. The sleeves, hem, and pant legs were tattered and worn. It was badly stained from water damage and other fluids. Nevertheless, it was still recognizable.

It was the Subcon prince’s clothes, the same thing he wore the day he returned to Subcon and Vanessa locked him in her basement.

Hat Kid stared at it with furrowed brows before the obvious question came to her, _Why does Moonjumper have this?_ He wasn’t Subcon’s prince: Snatcher was! She’d seen it herself! But it that was the case… then why did he have the prince’s clothes?! How did he get them?! Did he somehow steal them off the prince’s body?! N-no, surely not, but then…

She shook her head. None of this made any sense. Who exactly _was_ Moonjumper?! Were he and Snatcher somehow connected? If so, how? Why? She didn’t think Snatcher would’ve known anything about him, or else he wouldn’t have exactly been thrilled with him guarding so many Dwellers here in the Horizon. What was going on?

Her mind scrambled to piece together the opposing facts that stood before her without success. The longer she stared at the clothes, however, something else finally caught her eye. Taking an easy step forward, Hat Kid noticed a rimless monocle hanging on a thin chain clipped on front of the coat. If it weren’t for how it glinted in the Horizon’s odd, starry light, she wouldn’t have spotted it. It was badly broken—practically shattered in half—but it was exactly what she needed: An unremarkable piece that Moonjumper wouldn’t likely notice was missing.

It would have to do. She took it, both glass and chain, and hid it one of her backpack’s side pockets. Then she closed the wardrobe and snuck out the bedroom door as quickly as possible, her feet carrying her with a fast tread all the way back to her room without so much as a glance around her to check if she had been spotted. Her frenzied thoughts simply made it impossible to maintain any sense of stealth.

It didn’t matter: She made it to her room without a problem, shrugged off her pack, and carried it with her into bed like a guarded treasure. She tucked both it and herself under the sheets, burying herself completely beneath them with only a small hole near her nose to let air in and the pillows framed around her like sandbags lining a trench, as if they would shield her from some unseen threat. All the while, the same questions wouldn’t stop racing through her head.

Hat Kid didn’t know how long she laid there. It was several minutes before she came to her senses enough to dig a light snack out of her bag and nibble on it in secret. A little while later, she heard her bedroom door open and shut as a living cup and platter flew in to settle down on the table for her convenience, just as usual. She didn’t get up though: Not for a long while—well after her drink had grown cold. Guilt and uncertainty filled her mind, and it took the weight of her tired muscles to finally pull her into a restless slumber. 


	19. Act Six: The Frozen Foothills, part ii

Maybe it was just because she was feeling paranoid after what she found, but it felt like forever until the young alien finally slipped out of Moonjumper’s sight. Not that she’d been forced to stay close, but she’d wanted to make sure that he and no other ghost would spot her heading into the forest. Hat Kid didn’t want to risk anyone discovering her deal with the snow women—making her especially mindful of any curious eyes shifted her way.

All the while, she couldn’t tear her thoughts away from the clothes hanging in Moonjumper’s bedroom. It was impossible to wrap her head around, but there was still no denying that they were the prince’s—from the design and bright colors to the stains and tears that marked his imprisonment within Vanessa’s basement. Snatcher was the prince though: She knew that! She’d seen it with her own eyes through Subcon’s storybook, his death and transformation into the shadowy monstrosity he was now.

And the fact alone that there _had_ been a transformation should’ve meant that there was nothing remaining of the prince’s former self—just like how Vanessa had also changed from a human to a dark specter without ever even dying thanks to her rapid corruption and the influence of magic. Hat Kid had seen this process once before as well, forced onto a friend of hers in the Firelands, so she felt confident enough to spot the pattern. 

Had she gotten something wrong? What was she missing? The revelation made her question everything she thought she knew about Snatcher and Moonjumper, the mystery of the prince’s identity and ultimate fate stripping them each of their own in her mind. She just didn’t understand it…

Hat Kid fumbled with the broken monocle tucked within a firm, but cautious fist, running her thumb along its smooth surface. She was careful not to grip it too tightly, against the risk of breaking it further or cutting her fingers on the sharp edges of glass.

Were either of them lying to her…? If so, which one? Snatcher, who already made a point to lie and deceive all of Subcon, or Moonjumper, who hid his true face from the world all while speaking to others with an open kindness? The one who actively shunned his name and title or the other who accepted both as he was given them all while fitting the role a little too perfectly? She wanted answers, but even if she found out the truth, what then? Even if Moonjumper wasn’t _the_ prince, he was _the Horizon’s_ prince, loved and respected by most the ghosts that lingered here: Snatcher, meanwhile, must’ve had his reasons for his silence, to keep himself a secret from Vanessa or as his own way of moving on from what happened. Maybe it was better to just ignore it all and focus on her own troubles.

Except Hat Kid couldn’t. Her curious mind wouldn’t allow it. Which was why, as she at last spotted the snow women—midway through their frozen, forested wasteland, dancing in circles around each other in the light powder—she readied an onslaught of questions on her lips. She didn’t know what they knew, but it was more than she obviously did. The mysterious trio’s vanity made it impossible to cover for that secret, if only thanks to their knowing glances and cryptic tongues.

It didn’t take long for her them to spot her. Even without her much heavier trek through the snow, her new, red cloak—fortunately warmer than her usual clothes—made her stand out against the cool blues that surrounded her. The snow women stopped their play and stared at her, motionless, but expectantly. Their cold, smug grins never left their faces. They knew, one way or another, that she would come back.

They still terrified her. The young girl paused for a moment to take a breath and steel her nerves before crossing the remaining few meters over to them. She tried to carry herself as tall and as strong as possible, crafting herself into a sturdy force almost as unshakable as any ice storm, worthy of their recognition and respect. If it worked through, they didn’t show it. Instead, one of the spirits simply chuckled at her in a somewhat amused, somewhat jeering way after she’d closed the gap between them, “You left us waiting for so long, little girl! We were beginning to think you’d gotten cold feet. Now… did you bring us what we wanted?”

Hat Kid still hesitated before revealing the monocle in her hand. As uncertain as she was over everything, that didn’t mean she trusted the snow women any more either. That, and she wasn’t sure if the damaged memento would pass. It was shattered so badly that there was barely half of it intact. Despite this, however, the first spirit’s eyes widened with surprised glee and she immediately snatched it out of the child’s grasp.

The icy wight dangled the monocle by its chain, gingerly tracing her fingers along its jagged, bottom rim with her other hand. Her eyes glistened covetously, as if the piece were a kind of rare treasure, its worth beyond Hat Kid’s own imagination. She treated the broken glass like a fair and fragile jewel.

“ _Ah_ , a truly handsome token of our dear Moon!” cooed the snow woman, her lips curled in a soft, but cruel smile, “So precious, so _personal_ … Imagine the tireless nights he read with this.”

The other two swooped over to take a look for themselves, nearly shoving Hat Kid out of the way in their eagerness as though they’d already forgotten all about her. The young girl stumbled back, holding her ground with a firm jaw as she continued to watch them a moment longer in silence. Their admiration of the monocle was somewhat unnerving, as an onlooker from the outside. On one hand, there was a sense of fandom to it, the way they wrestled with the piece all while unanimously working to treat it with fascinated care: On the other, there was something dehumanizing, something greedy, about it as well—as if the possession of the monocle, in a small way, extended to Moonjumper himself.

Before she could begin to have her regrets, one of the darker-haired snow women took notice of her once again. “I suppose you’ll want us to hold our end of the deal now. Fair is fair,” she began. Then, as if reading the contempt in the young alien’s eyes continued with a small grin, “Our kind may take much child, but know that when we do give, we give greatly. Even with your awful mark, you may wander through our territory as you please. Try searching the hills for your lost hourglass.”

Hat Kid raised a brow, following the other’s elongated finger with her eyes as she pointed deeper within the ice-covered wood. “I guess that means you won’t help me get it.”

She giggled with a lax shrug, moving to return to her sisters, “Why would we? Besides, you might enjoy getting lost in our snow.”

The girl grabbed the snow woman by the end of her robes to halt her. The sheer cold that emanated from them was still jarring. “ _Before that_ , I want to talk about Moonjumper,” she insisted, locking her gaze with the spirit’s, “Why’d you have me steal something of his for you? You know something! Who was he before he came to the Horizon, before he died? What does he have to do with the prince from Subcon Forest? Why does everybody think he’s _him?_ ”

She didn’t register how her voice has risen to a shout until after the fact, as the trio of snow women stared at her in mild surprise. Soon though, they recollected themselves, giggling in that horribly jeering way. It came across as snooty, mocking, and while she shuddered at the noise Hat Kid also felt a twinge of anger well-up inside her.

However, the one holding the monocle clenched it to her chest, something strangely bittersweet reflecting in her eyes that hadn’t before, “Dear, dear Moon… Even those you keep closest, you hold so very distant just as much!”

“Who can really say what draws us to him…” said the second with a slight hum, leaning on the former’s shoulders, “He intrigues us, someone who can so love and fear a frozen heart like ours, who adopted one himself. It’s rare for a mortal.”

She knew that they could only be referring to one person, and she hated herself for even asking, “You mean Queen Vanessa?”

“We do not call her by any name of mortal tongue,” spoke the third, “but it would give us pleasure to call her ‘sister.’”

“Sister?!” That had to be a lie; however, the more the young alien thought about it, it did make a kind of weird sense considering the queen’s ice powers. The main, glaring issue was that Vanessa had definitely been human. That, and the snow women themselves had sad it was almost impossible for them to have a child.

Then it hit her: ‘ _Almost...’_

Just as she reached this conclusion, one of the other spirits gave her a slow nod of confirmation, her long hair rolling across her icy skin. “It’s an old story: For many years, a king of Subcon ruled in solitude—no family or heir to his name—until, one winter, one of our sisters was drawn to his side. They loved each other, and she gave herself to him. He did everything he could to suit her needs in order to keep her at his side and the knowledge of her spiritual origin a secret from his people. He limited his staff to a loyal few, he abandoned his palace to instead construct a manor in deeper isolation further in the wood, and he kept their home as dark and cold as her liking so that she might never leave come the warmer seasons.

“But she kept secrets of her own. Eventually, she carried a child. It was her choosing, but the warmth of that new life was too much to bear and her body melted away. That daughter, however, would carry on her legacy of power and tragedy. And so on and so on it would go, the curse and blessing of the ice and snow, among each woman of her lineage. The strength of our kind consuming their short lives until, at last, one did not die, but became like us.”

The first snow woman brought the conversation back full circle, “As for our Moon… You intruded on our song before, little girl. Why should we tell you a story you already seem to know well?”

For a moment, Hat Kid paused in confusion, but slowly the words of the haunting melody that they had been singing when she first spotted them began to form in her mind—and their true meaning fall into place. It really was a story: A twisted, grim retelling of the aftermath to Vanessa’s storm.

_‘Tale of a place, a deep forest dark with grace,  
‘There he lives,  
‘Blooming inside, a wild field of big eyes,  
‘And there he lives,_

_‘Skin so blue, his eyes shot red,  
‘The moon, the sky, tell him only lies,  
‘He doesn’t know, she waits inside,  
‘She lost her mind, many years gone by.’_

The first few lines could’ve either been talking about Subcon Forest or the luminous woods she now stood in: A dark place, but one that could host a terrifying beauty. ‘There he lives.’ The prince, either Snatcher or Moonjumper. The part about ‘big eyes,’ she didn’t really understand, but it did make her think of how watchful both phantom rulers were over their domains.

Then the next verse. ‘Skin so blue, his eyes shot red’: That was definitely talking about Moonjumper. From a darker perspective, it was possible it was talking about the state of the prince’s corpse, but the line that followed made her dismiss that. ‘The moon, the sky, tell him only lies.’ The Horizon’s visions, which forced people to confront whatever was bothering them before lost souls could successfully move on…

_‘He doesn’t know, she waits inside,  
‘She lost her mind, many years gone by…’_

The last two lines were clearly about Queen Vanessa, how she stayed in her manor after becoming the twisted spirit she was now. ‘He doesn’t know…’ That part was hard for her to wrap her head around. Snatcher knew: He referenced Vanessa enough in cryptic, mocking quips before sending her off to the witch’s forsaken home. Moonjumper, however… Well, maybe he didn’t. The way he described his initial arrival to the Horizon, he had been extremely weak and actively trying to fend off any memory of his former life. If he really was the prince instead of Snatcher, it made sense for him to try to forget about Vanessa and everything she did to him. Maybe he really didn’t remember.

That still left the question of who was really who though. According to the snow women and the Dwellers that lingered here in the Horizon, Moonjumper was the true prince. As a witness herself, Snatcher was. It seemed impossible that the two of them could’ve shared similar experiences when they were alive to such an extreme. It still just didn’t make sense…

“Better hurry along, little girl,” one of the snow women purred, swiping her hand through the air in a lax motion and snapping Hat Kid out of her musings, “Sooner or later, Moon will wonder where you went to. Unless you plan to stay, it’s for the best that you don’t linger.”

“Why?” she asked, “Would Moonjumper get mad at you for talking to me?”

“Even if he did, we wouldn’t care,” smirked one of the others, “but it’s for your own sake. He’ll want to protect you, and he won’t let you play here anymore. Who knows: You may even find yourself becoming another one of his treasures in place of the one you stole, never to leave his sight again.”

As casually as the spirit said this, Hat Kid thought of it more as a dismissal than an actual threat. Nevertheless, they had a point. As many questions as she still had, she also had her job to do and not much time to do it in. Even if no one had ever told her to avoid them specifically, she _had_ been warned—breaking the one rule to the otherwise free reign she’d been given. The longer she stuck around, the more likely she was to get caught.

She only paused for a second longer to recall which direction they’d told her to go in before muttering a brief thanks and beginning her search. Her footsteps left heavy tracks in the fresh powder and she grimaced as she moved, despising the obvious trail. For the first time since she’d gone to Vanessa’s manor, she wished for snow, if only to help hide her for just a while longer. 


	20. Act Six: The Frozen Foothills, part iii

This portion of the forest wasn’t as empty or untamed as Hat Kid had first thought. While the rest had been a dense, but bright wild wood, the area around her was littered with brick. The clean-cut stone was set within the earth at random, strewn along winding trails, and stacked neatly as if someone had tried laying the foundation of a small town and just… stopped. She could make out the perimeters of buildings and the streets that crossed between them, the early construction of walls and porch steps.

Of course, woven through all of it stood barren trees and pillars of ice. Her experiences in Subcon and with the snow women kept a feeling of unease pinned at the back of her neck, but despite that it did have its own beauty. Everything glistened like crystals in a soft glow, as if the ice and snow were a cold reflection of the Horizon’s starry atmosphere. Not too far in the distance, she could make out the hills that the spirits had told her to search in.

If they could be called ‘hills’ at all. The landscape before her was nestled right against the wide ravine she’d come across several times now. Here though, some of the rock broke apart and stayed captive in the air as it did where the Goat’s lived, at the Twilight Bell. Many of them overlapped or connected to slopes of ice. She’d had to be careful crossing any.

The glow of the snow and stars made it hard for her to get an idea of where the Time Piece was though. _If the snow women were even telling the truth and there’s actually one here,_ she thought to herself, but she didn’t have the time to reconsider and she’d already come all this way. Shuffling off her pack, she fished around inside it for her ice hat. Whether or not she’d need its abilities, the knit fabric was still warm. She pulled the hood of her cloak back and nestled the cap on her head. She hesitated to put her Dweller mask away in its place though, instead strapping it to her hip.

Hat Kid always had a familiar feeling about this part of the Horizon, from the town to the forest, but she’d largely brushed the idea aside until now. Now, as she walked past the abandoned groundwork of civilization, the feeling struck her again for some reason—especially as she came to a broken bridge over a gap that seemed to split the land in two, forcing her to ease across it along the left to avoid its collapsed side. Although she made it across just fine, she still paused to look back at it in wonder before shaking her head and moving forward.

The further she went though, the harder it was to avoid her feelings and blame them on a trick of the mind. The stonework began to dwindle away, but in in their place—further ahead—she spotted the frame of a large structure just standing out in the open. It towered over her, and she ran to it out of curiosity. She was still several meters away from the structure before she skidded to a halt again and just stared.

Unlike the stone remains of buildings behind her, this had been largely made of some kind of wood. Also unlike them, which had been carefully placed and seemingly just forgotten, the remains of this construction were greatly damaged. Although much of its large form still held together, there were snapped and splintered boards lying in heaps all around her. Hat Kid tripped over a couple of them that had been hidden completely in the snow. It was as if a massive storm had ripped it apart before it had any hopes of completion. Ahead of her was a large, stone stairwell and the base of a circular veranda had held together well enough. The young alien moved up and across it with a cautious tread.

It was huge, and she’d almost walked around its entire perimeter before she finally realized where she was standing—just as she spotted a deep pit at the back. It was a basement level, or at least had been intended to be one. It was almost filled up, both by debris and large rock, to the point where she hadn’t really been able to tell what it was if only its rectangular frame and the child’s own memory hadn’t given it away.

She couldn’t believe it at first, couldn’t understand why, but the longer her eyes followed up the beams and shattered floors, the more she was able to recognize. The damage aside, it matched the layout of Vanessa’s manor.

Hat Kid shivered.

It was like she could hear the ice queen’s sadistic laughter in her head, and she pictured her shadowy figure wandering the naked, wall-less halls. Why was this here? If this was supposed to be a replica of the manor… that meant the abandoned area she’d just passed through had been some bare copy of Subcon village! The pieces were starting to fit in place. The village, the woods, the town, all designed within the limits of the area’s original, formally barren wasteland to match the _real_ Subcon Forest!

By Moonjumper… His words echoed back to her, _“This is my territory, manipulated according to_ _my_ _design.”_ He’d left this side in ruin, but the other must’ve been something close to how one section of Subcon—the area she knew to be dotted by stone towers and crumbled ruins—must’ve looked before Vanessa’s storm had ripped it apart. She could follow the trails in her mind’s eye, both here in the Horizon and in Subcon, and _knew_ they mimicked each other almost perfectly. She’d walked along them both too many times to be wrong.

 _Guess turnabout’s fair-play…_ she quipped silently. There was more to it than that though: She could tell. Why even start remaking this part of Subcon at all if he was just going to leave the work behind before it was ever close to finished? It just wasn’t like the Moonjumper she knew to do something like that. She doubted this was the snow women’s doing either, given how they talked about Vanessa: They might not have even moved into this area until much later.

The girl ran her hand along a broken beam slanted in the ground. It was obvious that the manor had been personally targeted, from the fact that it was only building truly damaged to the filled-in basement level. Why even try reconstructing it in the first place though? Why destroy what he’d started?

She had to talk to him. She had to answers on who he really was and what he was doing. Did the Dwellers know about this? They had to, surely. Were they ok with this—could they have asked him to do this? Everything was starting to feel very, _very_ wrong…

 _Get the Time Piece, get to Moonjumper,_ the child ordered herself. One thing at a time. Slowly, she was able to pull herself away from the wreckage and dart across the snowy landscape.

She slipped on a patch of ice. All of a sudden, with a startled cry, she was flying down one of the hills with a spray of frost trailing after her as she moved. Ahead, there was a sudden drop down into the ravine, but there was a floating ledge of rock just beyond it. Hat Kid could only brace herself, adjusting her body to slide with her hands braced to one side and her legs bent to time it right and propel herself off the ground to make the jump.

She reached safety with a harsh thud, air bursting from her lungs. Looking behind her, she saw where the ice turned into a frozen waterfall off the side of the ravine and down into darkness. After the incident with the skeleton, she didn’t even want to think about what horrors might’ve awaited her upon that descent— _if_ she even survived it. Standing up and brushing flecks of snow off her skirt, she looked for a way around. There were multiple paths she could take, but still no clue as to where the Time Piece was. 

Until she looked up. The patch of sky above her had suddenly grown brighter. Stars blinked to life and then, shaped by them, a tall figure with a circular clock for a face and a pendulum in one hand seemed to appear. It was one of the celestial spirits, staring back down at her. Quickly, Hat Kid grabbed her Dweller’s mask to see if it was another one of the Horizon’s tricks, but nothing changed.

She didn’t know why it had appeared before her or what it wanted. It said nothing and didn’t move for the longest while. After a moment, it raised deliberate finger and pointed across the sky to where it seemed to be touching one of the floating rocks. Then, to her astonishment, a bright, familiar light bloomed on top of it. The Time Piece!

Hat Kid gaped back at forth, from the direction of the hourglass to the ‘face’ of the spirit. Rather than take the magical relic for itself, however, it simply drew its hand back to its side and regarded her again with its eternal, blank expression. It was showing her the way.

For the first time since she’d stolen Moonjumper’s monocle, she smiled. A wave of relief passed over her, both from the fact that the spirit hadn’t taken the Time Piece for themselves as so many others might have and at having the help. It gave her hope. “Thank you!” she shouted up the to sky, but if it even heard her, it didn’t react. It just continued to stare, then steadily blinked out of existence.

Not entirely though, it left behind a kind of trail for her: Stars shaping arrows across the void for her to follow, just as the celestial spirits had done for the Alpine Skyline’s founder. Hat Kid didn’t waste a second, looking around for the easiest way across. Throwing herself over to another rock, she leapt across one after another in a nimble fashion.

She allowed herself a brief moment to enjoy her surroundings. It felt like she was sailing across space and treading over asteroids, as if she’d become a celestial spirit herself. If she didn’t have to hurry, she might’ve actually followed the snow women’s recommendation and stayed for as long as she dared, enjoying her dance among the stars.

Snow and ice still clung to the rocks. Occasionally, she was able to find a natural platform that let her spring over the void with her ice hat—before the frozen casing that would surround and protect her shattered upon each landing. Hat Kid had had plenty of practice doing this by now, and felt comfortable enough in the Horizon’s atmosphere and under the celestial spirit’s sight to get across at a quick, steady pace.

Bridges of ice made for improvised slides to and from some of the platforms. She did worry about a few of them, which were too thin and often tried to shatter under her weight. She was careful to avoid those when she could or else quickly lunged over to the next available space.

The only thing that halted her progress was a streak of red that soon enough darted the sky. It was impossible to miss, and she pulled to a halt at the sight of it, tracking it with her eyes: A Dweller, flying over the ravine. She watched it for the longest time, but it didn’t seem to go much of anywhere, as if it was instead patrolling the area, looking for something.

It wasn’t until the stars that were her guide began to blink out that she began to worry again. Of course, they were impossible for the Dweller to have missed: Maybe they were why it was out here in the first place. By the time the last one has vanished though, it still hadn’t gone anywhere. She took the celestial spirit’s cue and jumped over to another floating, misshapen ledge, ducking behind the cover of raised earth. There she watched the Dweller for a while until a handful more had begun to appear after it, all darting across the void with the same, searching behavior.

She looked back in the direction of the mainland, toward the forest and town, and her eyes widened at the sight of red dots covering the once calm palette of blues and whites. It was impossible to tell what they were though, that is until her mind went back to the first time she’d visited the snow women and had nearly been caught under the gaze of a red eye set within a tree.

Another thought clicked in her mind as well. _A wild field of big eyes…_ At last, that line from the snow women’s song made sense to her. From this distance, she could see it, washed over the whole of Moonjumper’s domain. His eyes were everywhere. He was a part of this Horizon—and even where he couldn’t look, he had the Dwellers to do so for him.

Was he looking for yet another run-away ghost or for her? Did he know what she had stolen or was he just worried since she’d pretty much darted out of the castle without telling him anything? Had someone spotted her coming here and tipped him off? Whatever the case, she kept low until the Dwellers had glided far enough away that the stars slowly began to creep back into place.

Hat Kid picked up speed once again, darting across the void with newfound urgency. The stars continued to faded in and out, disappearing when a Dweller began to turn in their direction and reappearing when the coast was clear up until the ghosts seemed to just give up entirely and dismiss the action as just another one of the parades of light that the celestials loved to create.

When the child, at last, reached the Time Piece—nestled among the rocks of the wide platform it rested on—she didn’t feel the well of success she normally did. She was too frazzled to feel much of anything, too focused on her next objective: Confronting the prince of the Horizon.


	21. Time Rift: Starry Subcon, part i

The eyes had already vanished by the time Hat Kid made it back to the main stretch of land and reentered the forest. Whether it was because they found what they were looking for—hopefully not her—or just because they were well hidden, she didn’t know. Either way, she dashed through the brightly lit wood, only slowing down to a brisk walk after the icy trails marking the snow women’s territory was far behind her. She moved with purpose, stopping just to give a little time for the snow clinging to her clothes to melt before stepping onto the paved roads of the ghostly town.

It felt like she was looking at it with new eyes. Of course, Vanessa’s storm and the forest itself had destroyed much of the real town—where Subcon Village still remained a frozen wasteland, the other settlement across the wood had thawed, but was left in complete ruin—but she now recognized some of the pathways she’d walked before, the towers that had miraculously been left standing. It was as close to perfect a match as things could get.

Well, the palace wasn’t. The real Subcon wasn’t anywhere close to any mountains. The ruins in Subcon had a gated area with a large, impressive fountain: She’d wondered before if that had been a small castle or mansion, the surroundings towers and fallen walls once weaving around it. The castle here was largely set apart, fashioned vertically to better scale the mountainside. Comparing the two, even without the gate, it somehow now felt more closed off to her than before.

Hat Kid felt acutely aware of every sound and movement as she beelined for the palace and entered through its wide doors—even more than the eternal silence the Horizon usually possessed already forced her to feel. As she shouted Moonjumper’s name down every hall, the echoes of her own voice and footsteps seemed to call back to her from every angle. Her own shadow played tricks on her against the walls.

To her dismay, there was no sign of Moonjumper anywhere. She checked his study and bedroom, the dining room and kitchen, the garden… Eventually, she even began to each of the towers, crossing the outdoor walls when able to look for any sign of the phantom prince from above. Over half an hour into her search and she reached the castle’s highest point: A spire with a domed interior and wide archways from every side.

She’d had to scale the walls to reach it. The stairwell below ended a level too soon and there was no ladder. The way up was so well hidden that she was lucky to find it at all from the inside. Strangely enough though, out of all the rooms in the palace, the spire seemed the most cared for. It was first time since her arrival that she truly felt she’d stepped into Moonjumper’s home. A trio of tables encompassed her in a semicircle, partially blocking some of the exists. A telescope stood opposite of them. The tables were littered with books; papers; and old, astronomical instruments. A burnt-out candle rested in a brass holder filled with cooled, uneven wax and there was a pile of sketches to the left of it: Quick, simplified drawings of celestial spirits that reminded her more of star maps.

The telescope was too large for her to use. Hat Kid ran from one side of the spire to the other, but there was still no sign of him. She bit the inside of her cheek, _What am I doing?_ How was she going to talk to him about everything anyway? Maybe it would’ve been better to talk to some of the Dwellers first, just to try to get a little more information from them about the situation before confronting him.

Leaning against the cold stone along one of the arches, she heaved a deep sigh. Her legs ached from the nonstop running and climbing. Her eyes scanned over the tables once again until the settled on a cylindrical piece among the instruments. Brows furrowing, she titled her head curiously and squinted her eyes at her for a close look.

It was the other half of the damaged spyglass she’d found in the caves. Even as Hat Kid removed her piece from her bag, she already knew it would fit. Although it had been broken in two, there were actually four sections to the antique tool, alternating between a plain surface and a finely etched, spiral patterned design. She took both halves in each hand, closed them, and pressed the second and third sections against each other until she heard a firm _click_ as they snapped into place. Then she opened it again and took a look for herself.

It was a pretty advanced piece, and it had a dial that allowed her to alter its range. With it, the spots of color that were the Dwellers several meters below to her own eyes became clear figures in a rounded frame. It worked so well that, for a moment, she thought of staying in the spire to keep up the hunt for Moonjumper from afar. That is until a green and white blur flew past her line of vision.

A Dweller Crow came to rest along one of the outer walls, perched about fifteen meters away from her. Although they still irritated her—dead or alive—the ghosts didn’t seem to find them much and most soared through the Horizon freely. She’d gotten used to seeing them around. What actually interested her was the hourglass shape in its talons.

Hat Kid’s mouth drew into a displeased frown. Although happy at the appearance of yet another Time Piece, the thought of having the rip it away from the bird right then didn’t appeal to her. Still, there was no choice for it. Without a second thought, the child put away the spyglass, stepped out of the spire, and jumped down to the crow’s level to land in a crouch before breaking into a run with her umbrella drawn at her side.

The crow spotted her well before she could reach it. She tore her mask from her hip and slapped it on her face with her free hand as it jumped back into the air and dove for her. Closing the gap, she jumped up to meet it only for the bird to swing back with a cry of outrage at the last minute in attempt to dodge. She struck it in the wing and it spiraled away before regaining its balance and flying off—clearly changing its mind against fighting her with its prize in tow.

She gave chase and as it flew beyond the palace walls she leapt in pursuit to catch it by a thin leg. The bird lurched in the air, dragged down by her weight and wildly flapping to keep itself steady. They drifted in a low, swift glide. If it weren’t for the still massive drop below, Hat Kid would’ve just swiped the Time Piece; however, she hung on and prayed that the crow kept its strength long enough for them to hover to safety.

Someone screamed below. The young alien was too busy focusing on the task at hand to look away, minding their descent. There was a bit of framing between levels. Not much to balance on, but enough that maybe she’d be able to pull herself over to the closest walkway. She swung her body in its direction, pulling the crow with her.

Everything that happened after that seemed to take place in a blink of an eye. The second her feet touched stone, she fought to wrestle the Time Piece from the crow’s grip, letting go of it with her other hand. A red blur—a Dweller—flew up at the same time and startled them both. The Time Piece slipped out of Hat Kid’s hand just as soon as she thought she had it, striking the wall before shattering completely against the Dweller’s mask as he tried to help to meet her.

Hat Kid gasped in shock, but her body moved as if on instinct at the sight of the swirling, purple light that burst from the broken glass: She dove toward it, back in the air for just a second before she was swallowed by the rift.

* * *

She still felt like she was falling for a long while. Everything was dark and then she suddenly hit the ground in a harsh roll, knocking the wind from her lungs on impact. The child had to give herself a moment to catch her breath, but was otherwise unharmed.

It wasn’t her smoothest entry into a time rift. She’d had to climb trees and buildings to reach some and shimmy down drainage pipes to reach others. She’d mark this as one of her least favorites. Rolling onto her stomach, she took in her surroundings. It was an island surrounded by floating rock, inhabited by a mix of both Subcon’s and the Horizon’s flora. It was a strange blend of light and dark, the bright blues piercing against a shadowy mist of miasma.

Whereas the blue time rifts always reflected the dreams and memories of those who entered, the environments in the purple time rifts were affected by those in contact with a Time Piece as it shattered. That meant she was effectively in the Dweller’s mindscape… As guilty as she felt for thinking it, Hat Kid honestly would’ve preferred if the relic has broken over Moonjumper instead. She probably would’ve gotten more of the answers she wanted that way. There was no helping it now though, and it wasn’t like she’d throw a Time Piece at his face and risk a global scale anomaly just to satisfy her curiosity later.

Even still, maybe she could find something useful here away. Recomposed, she pushed herself up from the ground. One of the advantages of a purple rift was that she could usually piece together certain memories to get a complete story. These pieces, key moments of a person’s life or a life-changing event that lead them to who they were, were—as she simply called them—Storybook Pages. She always tried to collect them when she could. She doubted this Dweller’s story differed too much from the others, but even if she just learned a little bit about his arrival to the Horizon, it was more than what she had to go on any other way.

Purple rifts also tended to be multi-leveled, meaning that there was probably a page not far from her right then. Rather than look for an exit, Hat Kid shuffled off into the wood, using her umbrella to bat away at the underbrush and clear a path for herself. The island was small—hovering in a void similar to the Horizon itself and she actually managed to walk along its entire circumference before finding what she was looking for a little way further inland. There was a series of branches she was able to scale up almost like a stairwell, jumping from beam to beam in order to reach the top of a wide tree where the first page was tucked between a mass of leaves.

The higher she climbed, the more she began to notice thin, red pieces of string dangling from the overgrowth. They hung like spider threads above her; scattered and few, but noticeable against the cold blue colors of some of the trees. They reminded her a little of the ribbons she’d followed when she first entered the Horizon, the ones the dangled decoratively everywhere. These, however, seemed messy and purposeless, like abandoned scraps in a tailor’s shop.

Hat Kid reached out to touch one, sliding the string across the flat of her palm. It felt strange. It was fine, but strong. It looked and moved like yarn, but it felt like steel: Cold and hard and harsh.

She shook her head in wonder, letting it go. It was likely something from the rift’s dream elements. Turning back to the page, she climbed up the last branch to reach it. It reacted to her touch immediately and at once she was consumed by a bright light similar to how she first entered the rift. All at once, the scenery changed, letting her relive the first of many moments to come alongside her Dweller friend.


	22. Time Rift: Starry Subcon, part ii

_After how long she’d been in the Horizon, the memory’s bright atmosphere took some getting used to. She had to shield her face against the warm light that washed over her, giving her eyes a long moment to adjust. Really, the_ sounds _were what she noticed first—so contrast to the ghostly realm’s almost overwhelming silence. There were voices: A chorus of them, all overlapping one another in a wonderful mess of chatter, laughter, and song. There was even the distant call of music, someone playing the guitar, fife, and drum. Beneath all of that was nature’s soft ambience._

_Hat Kid opened her eyes to find herself standing in the heart of Subcon’s future ruins. Its stone walls and high towers meshed with both its buildings and the land; weaving around large trees, the cobblestone roads matched by small gardens that ran along either side—similar to the layout of Subcon Village—and the canopy above siphoning beams of sunshine to cast the whole town in a fantastic glow. There was some kind of festival going on. Lanterns, bows, and streamers hung everywhere, and everyone wore masks._

_Dressed as she was, Hat Kid blended in perfectly with the crowd, not that anyone would find her out of place to begin with. Since it was just a memory,_ she _was practically a ghost this time. She couldn’t interact with anything and no one would pay her any attention. She could only act as a silent observer to whatever events unfolded before her._

_It wasn’t hard to figure out whose memory she was in from the dozens of Dwellers that surrounded her, not when one knew how to look for the right signs. She looked over the people in her immediate area before settling on a boy with copper blonde hair and a deer mask with gold patterns and wide antlers. After speaking with a nearby vender, he darted past her. The memory slightly distorted as he moved, staying clear only in the direction he ran toward. If she stayed around long enough, it would blur out of all reality. She followed after him at a brisk pace._

_The brief trip led her to the familiar courtyard, its gates wide open. As she’d already guessed, in place of the run down, boarded structures stood a small, but shining palace. She had always thought that the fountain—now sparkling with clear water and polished stone as opposed to the murky grime that consumed it in the present—was too big, but now its design made a little more sense. The wide space had a series of walkways that looped around its circumference and connected to castle’s second level, the fountain’s true base acting as a kind of center post. The tall statue that adorned it still had its head. Although she shivered at its future, deadly potential, the girl still found it to be very beautiful._

_There weren’t as many people here, although everyone seemed just as busy—likely preparing for events later in the day. The boy she followed cut through the courtyard and entered a narrow, winding passage. It spilled them into yet another hall before they entered a noisy kitchen. Dishes of all sorts littered every counterspace and both servants and townsfolk bumped shoulder-to-shoulder to finish making an apparent feast._

_The boy approached one from behind: A servant girl with a delicately framed face and curly, dark hair, her mask tied to the side of her head at an angle so she could work unhindered. Her mask was more standard than the boy’s, following the kitsune-like design she was used to seeing, but with a lavender color and navy patterns. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her with his face buried against her spine as he greeted her in a teasing voice, “Guess who?”_

_The girl shook him away, but there was a tickled smile on her lips. Rather than answer, she spun around with a light smirk and asked a question of her own, “Don’t you still have work to do?”_

_“We finished early,” he huffed as he picked up a platter of deviled eggs and lifted himself onto the countertop in its place, setting the dish in his lap. “I wanted to see you.”_

_Twisting around his mask in a manner similar to hers, he plucked up one of the eggs to take a bite only for it to be quickly snatched from his hand as the girl scoffed and silently nagged at him with a chiding finger. He tilted his head, earthy eyes pleading with her until she rolled her own and relented just a bit. She plopped it halfway in his mouth with one hand and snuck the platter out of his grasp with the other as he fumbled not to drop the egg. The platter was set at a distance._

_The pair looked to be about fourteen or fifteen. Young love. Hat Kid normally didn’t mind it, but nevertheless stuck out her tongue in mock disgust. The exchange was cute, but it was a far-cry from what she hoped to see. It just wasn’t a piece of knowledge worth anything to her right then._

_The memory wasn’t ready to end quite yet either. The couple continued their banter for a few minutes longer before one of the older maids called them out on it—to their embarrassment and the amusement of their audience. Excusing herself with a plate of light snacks—the boy offering to “help” with a tray of his own laden with water goblets—they exited back into the hall and moved deeper into the castle, picking back up where they left off._

_Again, Hat Kid followed. She didn’t really have a choice until the memory faded and the time rift’s made-up reality bended back into place. At that point, the young alien only half-listened to their words and instead paid attention to her surroundings. Unlike the Horizon’s palace, not only were these halls easier to navigate through, but she felt more at home walking through them. There were still some wide windows facing the courtyard: Even though they were fewer in number, the warm light emitting through them cast a golden glow against the walls. The painted ceiling was the same, but the innermost walls were decorated with soft tapestries, paintings, and potted plants spaced out to keep the area from feeling too cluttered or gaudy. It made her wonder again how much inspiration for Moonjumper’s palace had actually been drawn from this one and how much had been drawn from his own mind._

_The pair guided her to a wide set of double doors, knocking before creeping one open and stepping inside a wide dining hall. Hat Kid weaved around them to peer in, but despite her desires still wasn’t quite ready to face the group of figures that stood before her. One was a lean, but elderly man; another servant, dressed a little finer than the others she’d seen who didn’t have a mask with him. Two were a king and queen, dressed in simple, but elegant clothes, the woman’s mask in her hands and the man’s set on the table before them._

_The last person in the group was all too familiar: The Prince, a little younger than she’d come to know him before Vanessa’s storm, dressed in similar attire to what he’d worn then as well. He gave the two a kind smile, moving forward to help them with their loads before the other servant could. What caught Hat Kid’s attention the most, however, was the mask hanging from his belt. It was undeniably Moonjumper’s._

_Here, the memory ended._

* * *

Again, she needed time for her eyes to adjust as she reentered the grim, forested island that made up the first level of the time rift. As the child waited, she tried to process the tiny, new piece of information with the odd assortment she’d already gathered. She thought and thought until her head hurt, as so much still made so very little sense.

Moonjumper’s mask clearly belonged to the Prince. The clothes hanging in his room belonged to the Prince. If she didn’t know what she did, all signs pointed to _Moonjumper being the prince,_ but then what about Snatcher? What about everything she’d seen from his and Vanessa’s storybook? She just couldn’t dismiss all of that when it too had to be fact. A couple different scenarios ran through her mind:

It was possible that Moonjumper was a regular ghost that had stolen the Prince’s identity and just tricked the Dwellers. Since he always wore his mask, no one ever saw his true face—or, at least, _she_ sure hadn’t. Since he had fabric dangling around it, even the back of his head was hidden and she couldn’t even tell if their hair might’ve been the same. It didn’t make any sense to her how he could’ve stolen the Prince’s clothes. For one thing, the very idea of robbing them off a rotting corpse was as insane as it was grotesque. For another, he would’ve had to have done it without alerting Vanessa or her statued minions—and that was what seemed nigh impossible, given her own escape.

Her thoughts briefly flickered to the loss of her own soul thanks to Snatcher’s contracts. Despite this loss, she still had her free will and moved around in her own body just fine, if feeling a lot emptier than usual. Much to both her pride and disgust, it managed to escape him for a short while by possessing an old, wooden toilet. Could something similar have happened to Snatcher and Moonjumper, one acting as the Prince’s soul and the other his undead body? It seemed possible, but even that theory had a dent in it. It again countered her own experience.

First, there was Snatcher’s threats when he’d made her sign her initial contract. When she’d tried to refuse, he’d told her to either do it or ‘he’d make her dead, _hollow_ body sign it for her.’ Unless it was an empty threat only meant to trick her into tethering her soul to him through the contracts, it meant that he’d intended to steal it anyway. However, he would’ve had to kill her beforehand in order to do it. In that case, her body wouldn’t have gone on with its own consciousness.

The second issue was that, when her soul managed to escape Snatcher and possess the toilet, it didn’t act like a person: It had been wild and unthinking, as though fueled only by the desire to flee and find its rightful host. Even then, after finding a ‘body’—albeit _absolutely_ the wrong one—it wouldn’t respond to her and instead constantly lashed out until the outhouse was destroyed and Snatcher took it once again. It had lacked _something_ , and her present consciousness still connected to her body was likely just that.

Moonjumper was definitely his own person. So was Snatcher, even if he could act like a total monster sometimes. So where did the Prince’s identity divide between the two of them? She still couldn’t figure it out… Hat Kid hoped that whatever else she would see through the Dweller’s eyes would give her more than just another, small hint. She had her doubts though: After all, just because he was one of his subjects didn’t mean his life had revolved around that. 

Hat Kid was sitting in the same tree that she’s found the first storybook page in. At last, she climbed back down, her mind no more at ease than before. What piece was she missing? What didn’t she understand? She looked around the island a while longer to make sure she didn’t miss a second page hidden in the foliage, gathering rift pons all the while, before hunting down the exit to the level.

She didn’t know why the exits took the form that they did—a cylindrical hatch with a clock face—but, given how it matched her ship’s vault seal, she imagined it had more to do with her people’s technology and the hourglasses’ makeup than the memories that permeated the rifts. She had gathered more than enough pons to access it and travel to the next level in a blur of energy. This time, the trees had vanished only to be replaced by buildings and walls floating in the air. Some of them were broken and surrounded by hovering rock, in a state of paralyzed destruction.

The cold, blue-greys that surrounded her made it easier for her find things from a distance. The child could already make out the shimmer of two rift pons where she stood. Again, red thread littered the area. With little place to suspend from though, most of the loose strings were strewn along rooftops and walkways. Hat Kid scuffed at one with the tip of her shoe, knocking it a meager, few millimeters away as it clung to the rough texture of the stone.

She had to use her ice hat for a short moment to bound across the massive descent into nothing and over to another rooftop. From there, she continued her search simply by aiming for what was closest first and peering into every secret corner that she could find along the way. She wasn’t entirely alone though: Manifestations of dweller crows and raccoons roamed the area. These weren’t like the Horizon’s visions. They weren’t real, but to her, whatever injury they could cause would be. As a visitor to the rift, she was exposed to any of its dangers. 

Hat Kid met the first of two crows head on, activating her mask’s abilities in time to meet it with a wide swing of her umbrella. It was a direct hit, and the crow was knocked away with a burst as it vanished. The second, however, wasn’t caught off-guard so easily. It lunged for her before she could recover, forcing her to swerve out of its way rather than immediately jump into another attack. As pounced again as she found her balance and she stepped back—right under a raccoon.

Startled by her presence, the mammal jolted in surprise and started to fall. Hat Kid dove out of the way, tucking and rolling along the platform then spinning around into a crouch as her feet went flat against its surface. She kicked off like a spring, avoiding the raccoon, but striking the crow with ease. The hit sent it flying off the edge of the platform before it too disappeared.

She saw more of both species further ahead, but almost equally spread out. The numbers were nothing she couldn’t handle. Two buildings to her right were close enough together that she was able to scale them easily by jumping from one wall to next. From the higher position, she was able to grab another pon and get an even better look around. 

It only took a short while to find the second storybook page, nestled between the corner merlons of an outer wall set not too far from the next exit. Just as before, she took it in her hands and was instantly warped away to a new scene in the distant past. 


	23. Time Rift: Starry Subcon, part iii

_The setting was the same, but a good deal of time had certainly passed. If Hat Kid didn’t already know how things looked in present-day Subcon, it would’ve taken her a few minutes to recognize the courtyard. Miasma covered the forest as far as the eye could see, just as usual. A thick layer of slush coated the muddy earth and dead undergrowth. The ice from Vanessa’s storm was melting, leaving only its jagged crystals piercing up from the ground. And through walls. And into homes._

_The beautiful town had been destroyed with clear purpose, although whether it was because of some craving for vengeance against the Prince or in mourning because of his escape, Hat Kid didn’t know. Only a few, scattered towers and piles of rock remained of the once proud walls. Buildings were in shambles and the roads torn apart. Half of the castle managed to stay intact, due to its sheer size, but much of the upper levels had been either devastated or completely fallen away. The walkways that had surrounded the fountain laid in scattered heaps of rubble in the slowly melting snow. The damage would only get worse as the ice continued to thaw and this part of Subcon was left abandoned._

_A single, green ghost levitated in the courtyard, just staring at the ruins with his back turned to her. Hat Kid didn’t even have to walk around him to recognize the deer mask and know it was the boy from before. She didn’t need to see his face to read the despair that emitted from him. Like so many others, he was a nameless casualty of events he didn’t even play a true part in…_

_Another Dweller—this one with an azure blue body and bull mask—floated through the metal gates and over to his side. A masculine voice that she couldn’t exactly place left the ghost in a quiet, sorry tone, “Come on, we shouldn’t be here. Vanessa’s minions are always hiding around the next corner, not to mention we have to deal with that_ monster _. We need to meet up with the others while we’ve got a chance.”_

_For a minute, the first Dweller didn’t respond. He barely cast the other a glance and then looked back at the wreckage with his head hung low. When he did finally speak, the boyish, playful cheer he once carried was now absent in his voice. “Where were you when it happened?” he asked solemnly, “Since the village was struck first, they say that the people on this side of the forest had a little bit of warning. That some of them managed to get out in time…_

_“I was on my rounds,” the boy continued, only this time as though he was speaking only to himself, “I didn’t know what was happening until the cold swept over the trees. I wasn’t anywhere near here. I don’t know if my family made it out ok. I don’t even know if she…”_

_Here he stopped before his voice could begin to quiver. Once more, he fell silent. The blue Dweller gave him a moment to recompose himself, looking away out of respect from his grief. In the silence that followed, it was possible that he inwardly mourned as well._

_Unable to provide any comfort, Hat Kid bowed her head out of her own respect, folding her hands together in front of her. She stared at the ends of her boots, then looked back to the fallen castle. The laughter and music she’d heard—to what was, in her mind—only minutes ago, seemed so distant now. It was sad to think not just of the area’s destruction, but how it had been left to rot as nothing more than a bad memory since._

_Something strange caught her eye as she scanned over the ruins, mentally following the same path she’d taken previously. With a raised brow, the child walked along the palace’s outer wall with a hand pressed against it, running her fingers over the cold stone. She stopped just as she reached the entrance to the narrow passage she’d followed the boy through earlier, only now it was blocked off. Not by stone or wooden beams, but by tight, interwoven cords of red thread that were so thickly pulled together that she could barely see through them._

_She’d never seen it before… Curious, Hat Kid reached out to them and was surprised when it gave a little at her touch, dipping against the weight of her fingertips._ It actually responds to me…? _she thought with wonder. The young alien looked back over her shoulder to see if anything else had changed in the memory thanks to her interference, but nothing happened. The two Dwellers still didn’t react to her presence and when she looked down at the snow, the tracks she’d normally leave behind were missing._

_What exactly was this stuff? Her mouth drew into a firm, determined line. She pulled against the thread to try to clear it away only for a pained cry to leave her as she stumbled back and looked down at her hands. Streaks of red, like lashes, ran across her palms: It didn’t cut her, but the skin heated like a bad rash._

_After the initial horror had passed, the child quickly kneeled in the snow and pressed her hands against it for the cool feeling to sweep over her and ease the pain. This wasn’t part of the memory… It was something else, an intrusion just like her. But why? What was it doing here? Granted, she was still young, but if it was an anomaly born from the Time Piece’s destruction, it was nothing she’d ever heard of in her studies. If it was an anomaly, she’d have to find a way to correct it._

_Before she could shuffle through her limited knowledge and the limitless possibilities that might’ve caused such a thing, the elder Dweller glided over to the young specter. “Come on,” he repeated, only this time when he spoke, it was barely a whisper._

_The other paused; released a deep, struggled sigh; and nodded. Then, the two turned away, disappearing back through the gate and down the crumbled remains of road still left intact. The second fragment of memory vanished with them, spilling Hat Kid yet again back where she left off._

* * *

Her hands still hurt. Before she continued to the third level, Hat Kid backtracked in order to look for a heart pon to heal her injury. The delay actually ended up being for the best, as she spotted a page she’d nearly missed her first way through—set on a distant wall away from the majority of structures. She left the path to grab it before going any further: 

* * *

_The memory seemed to continue where the previous one left off._

_She followed the two ghosts only a short distance from some of the ruins, in the heart of mass of briars. There, a small group of other Dwellers was already waiting. She recognized one of them: The teenage girl who’d carried her into the Horizon. The rest seemed to be an odd assortment, with varying masks, sizes, and colorations. There was a near dozen of them total, clustered together in a tight circle. Hat Kid crawled inside to sit among them and listen in on their conversation._

_“Is this really everyone?” questioned an emerald Dweller with a demonic-looking mask._

_“Should be,” answered another, who didn’t wear a mask at all, instead appearing as the snake-like manifestation the Dwellers always seemed to take the shape of without them. “Anyone else that stuck around is either a kid, already locked up, or too afraid to fight back.”_

_A third one with a teal body shuddered at that, “A-are we sure it’s safe here…?”_

_“Yeah. We looked around before everyone showed up. The good news is that thing seems to be keeping most of the spirits back. The closest one we saw was around the fire spirits’ borders.”_

_It slowly began to dawn on her that the ‘thing’ they were referring to had to be Snatcher. He was the only ghost in Subcon Forest powerful enough to keep the more malicious spirits at bay, the ones that would go after any soul like the giant skeleton that had attacked her. Even the fire spirits—while often good intentioned—could be dangerous. She remembered being told how Subcon’s miasma attracted a lot of strong, negative forces to the land. It must’ve been hard immediately after Vanessa’s storm, a cloud of mass death and destruction still fresh over the forest, with every evil spirit drooling through their fangs to claim Subcon for their own. It must’ve been hard for Snatcher to stand against them all…_

_Apparently though, not hard enough for him to drop his façade for anyone. The group of Dwellers talked about him as though he were the devil incarnate. “How are we going to beat him?” another one asked, “Even if he wasn’t stronger than us, even if he didn’t have spells, he’s got some of our children now! There’s got to be a way to destroy their contracts!”_

_“You don’t think he really eats souls, do you…?” someone voiced anxiously, “He… he wouldn’t eat_ them… _right?”_

_A moment of horrified silence fell over the group before another Dweller answered, although not very confidently, “I don’t think so… For whatever reason, he wants slaves. Maybe because of Vanessa, or maybe because it’s his idea of some sick game. I don’t know. Either way, I don’t think we have to worry about them right now: He wouldn’t have made bodies for them otherwise.”_

_The demon-masked Dweller exhaled grimly, “The ones he’s got caged in that old tower, however…”_

_Silence hung over them yet again. Hat Kid bit her lower lip. The Dwellers she knew in present-day Subcon were at least civil toward Snatcher and his minions, even if many were nervous around them. They seemed to trust Snatcher enough to know that he wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt them and some of them even lived with the doll-like servants. However, these Dwellers didn’t know that. The only Snatcher they knew was the one who had suddenly appeared in the forest and claimed it for himself._

_And he_ did _lock up other ghosts, be it rogue Dwellers; servants of Vanessa’s; or other lost souls that had wandered into Subcon and landed in his grasp. She envisioned the birdcage-shaped cells that hung suspended in the ruins that Snatcher had claimed as a kind of duel prison and lab. To be honest, the more time she’d spent around him, the less she believed he really ate souls: It was likely just another lie he kept up in order to scare others into obedience and deter any outsiders from entering the forest. If he did, he probably would’ve devoured her own soul instead of fighting her, or tried to take Mustache Girl’s when she’d snuck into the forest after her. Nevertheless, it didn’t change the fact that he was imprisoning people or how his former subjects viewed him as a result._

_Maybe he wanted them to think he was that awful, but at times she was still confused as to why. Maybe he didn’t want to be their prince anymore, maybe he felt guilty for everything that happened, but why take on the identity he had now as this terrible, overpowering spirit?_

_“Freeing the others should be our first goal,” explained the second Dweller, “We can try to sneak them out when he’s busy dealing with some of the spirits. If enough of us band together, we should be strong enough to wear him down.”_

_“You must be joking!”_

_“We’ll get stronger!” the former insisted, “He might have his contracts and the miasma on his side, but there’s only one of him! We’ve just got to get used to…” he waved at his own, see-through body with the tip of his tail, “_ this, _first.”_

_“Could we trick him into fighting the queen?” the azure Dweller offered, “maybe we could at least get rid of one of them that way.”_

_“I don’t even want to imagine it,” said another ghost nervously, “It’d be a clash of monsters: The devil contractor vs. the ice witch.”_

_“Sam!”_

_“What?! We’re all thinking it! Look what she did to the woods—to us! Did you know Elliot went to the manor to find her, to figure out what happened?! He hasn’t come back yet! It’s been two weeks! She might’ve_ been _queen, but I’ll sign my soul over to that Snatcher before I_ ever _call her—!”_

_There was a dull thud as something fell in the distance. The entire group went mute. For a few seconds, they just listened for any other sounds. Only the faint call of the wind covered over the softs shuffling of objects somewhere back in the direction of the ruins. A few of the Dwellers looked to each other, nodded, and slowly crept out of their hiding place._

_One of them was the teal ghost, who the teenage girl Hat Kid had befriended quickly stopped in a panicked motion, “No, Mother!”_

_The young alien paused. She’d only met her twice, but she knew for a fact that the mother’s soul was red. Despite this, the ghost responded in turn, grazing her tail in a consoling way across the girl’s mask. “Stay here,” she instructed, “Watch over the others. We’ll be back.”_

_With that, they split off, about a third of the group leaving in search of the noise and others remaining behind._


	24. Time Rift: Starry Subcon, part iv

The remaining pieces of memory followed immediately after each other, their pages scattered across another three levels: Another distorted layout of a town—spread farther apart where she’d had to trapeze over webs and fight spiders to cross the gaps between buildings; floating, luminescent treetops covered in ice and snow; and a complete dreamscape of stars where she lunged from one platform to the next over a pit of darkness. They were easier to read together. These were much shorter than the first three she’d found; each lasted only a few minutes at most, but together contained shocking, critical knowledge.

* * *

_The Dweller she’d been following had gone with the smaller group. Creeping around fallen stone and pillars of ice, the five ghosts scouted out any potential signs of danger. The noise from before, however, had stopped. For a short while, they wandered aimlessly—spread out no farther from where they could spot one another as they snuck through the destroyed town._

_Hat Kid wondered if maybe some animal had caused the noise, but then she remembered that, even if any wildlife had survived Vanessa’s storm, the miasma clinging to the forest likely kept them away. Even in present-day Subcon, few species populated it. The bats and bugs that she’d gotten used to seeing weren’t around either, not yet, no doubt staved off by the cold. The many sounds of nature were lost to the low howl of a freezing wind._

_That was why it was so easy to isolate anything that disturbed it. After a few more moments of fruitless wandering in silence, they heard an odd, faint noise coming from a nearby building. The group rounded it at a distance, taking cover behind a large tree and surrounding piles of stone. A large section of wall had collapsed from the building, and from there they were able to peer through its broken frame in secret._

_Inside, there was a figure of a man with his back practically turned to them. He was largely hidden by the shadows, so it was hard to make out much detail beyond his slim form and the faint, blue glow that appeared to radiate from him. Something metallic reflected back at them; however, it wasn’t until the pale moonlight pierced through the shroud a little bit more that they realized that they sounds they heard came from the shuffle of books in his hands and rustle of chains at his wrists._

_Even though he still didn’t fully face them, it was undeniably Moonjumper. He still wore the prince’s clothes, filthy and ragged from his imprisonment. The books he carried weren’t in any better shape, edges damaged by the harsh elements. He tried to clean them off a bit with little success. They were drenched from where the ice and snow had begun to melt, their covers distorted and spines fallen away from the text. Not only that, but he seemed to struggle with holding them: They shook in his grasp, as if attempting to sink through his fingers—as if his materialized form wasn’t strong enough to fully interact with the physical world yet._

_It took a minute longer for the Dwellers to figure out the other ghost’s identity for themselves, when he finally did turn his head just enough that half of the crescent-shaped mask and the red lines detailing it could be seen from their position. Of course they recognized it: Hat Kid wouldn’t have doubted it if they knew each other’s masks before their real faces, and both royals in Subcon were well-known and well-loved by their subjects. They whispered among themselves, initially with shock, then with hope._

_It was one of the maskless Dwellers that first crept out of hiding and timidly called out to him in quiet disbelief, “Your Highness…?”_

_Moonjumper visibly recoiled at the voice, losing his concentration and allowing the books to fall through his hold as he spun around to face them. Someone gasped in relieved joy, seeing the full of his mask turned their way. For the Dwellers, the tides of fate had finally moved in their favor. The ‘prince’ had at last returned; sharing their demise, yes, but manifesting back into the world much stronger than themselves. He would lead them! Somehow, he would set things right!_

_They weren’t counting on him to run, fading through the other side of the building and disappearing down ruin’s winding paths. They froze as their shock momentarily returned, but soon chased after him, now shouting his name. They didn’t care if Snatcher or any spirits found them anymore: They just wanted the prince to come back._

_The young alien followed after them as fast as her legs could carry her, lungs burnings against the cold as the group tore through ice, rock, and trunk. Eventually, they left the ruins completely, moving deeper into a part of the forest that she’d never explored—far away from the trails where the trees were old and a thick undergrowth covered the forest floor. Normally, she’d have a lot of trouble crossing it; however, the state of the memory allowed her through almost as easily as the ghosts themselves, distorting as she moved._

_Not enough for her to miss some key details though, like the large spider webs that clung to the highest branches, the ones that Vanessa’s unnatural storm hadn’t greatly affected. They were new: The giant arachnids were moving into Subcon, beckoned there by the miasma. Normally, Hat Kid could face off against even two or three just fine—so long as she moved quickly enough to get the first strike—but, admittedly, entering what must’ve been the heart of their nests made her nervous._

_If there were spiders around though, they didn’t appear. They never seemed to target ghosts to begin with. Therefore, the group continued onward, unhindered, until they reached a rock wall with a small, natural opening carved out of it. It was almost as tall as it was wide, around a meter and a half in diameter: A little snug for her to walk through, but she could move at a comfortable crawl. No doubt it was connected to Subcon’s deep, largely unexplored caves. Here, mixed in with the spider webs above, were the same dangling_

_Moonjumper vanished through the opening first, then each of the Dwellers closely followed by, at last, Hat Kid herself. She was surrounded by immediate darkness, but the path seemed straightforward enough for her to find her way by feel—if the memory hadn’t cut off there and she hadn’t had to find the next page to continue where she left off. It wasn’t until then that she realized the underground tunnel’s true end._

_It was another gateway that led to the Horizon. At first, given how massive she knew the spiritual realm to be, she wondered where they found themselves within it. Soon though, she recognized the large ravine across a familiar, barren landscape. The forest was missing, although she did see some flowers and mushrooms sporadically grow around them. The same mountainside she knew in present-day stood at a distance, and beneath it, she thought she saw the beginnings of some kind of structures._

_There was no nowhere left for Moonjumper to run though, not unless he wanted to escape further into the void and lose his own way. Even then, after coming this far, the Dwellers would probably have followed him to the ends of eternity. The group looked around, dumbfounded, at the mysterious place they’d been cast into. Unwilling to risk losing the phantom prince again, however, they shook away their surprise and dove toward him, still calling him. He moved slower now, but still kept his distance, his hands pressed to the side of his head as if to drown out their voices._

_“Just stop! Just go away!” he screamed, speaking for the first time._

_It was jarring, hearing his voice laded heavy with emotion. As the young girl knew him, nothing ever seemed to break the collected reign he had over himself. Now though, even with the mask still on, he seemed terrified: A crippled version of the kind and gentle prince that once ruled. Fingers dug into his hair, his body was rigged, and he only kept his head up enough to keep an eye on them._

_Seeing this, the group settled down a bit. There was still a restlessness hanging over them, but they relented enough to give him some space and a minute to calm down a little. Eventually, the azure Dweller with the bull mask hovered ahead of the others—still maintaining about two meter’s worth of distance between the young monarch and himself. “Your Highness?” he began, wincing as the latter appeared to recoil at the title, “Please… It’s just me: It’s the baker.”_

_Moonjumper hesitated, but it seemed to stir him a bit. He raised his head a little higher, staring at the other ghost for a long while until something close to recognition tinged his tone, “Baker…?”_

_“Do you remember me too?” another one of the ghosts chimed in, unable to wait anymore, “I-I worked in at the archives with my dad. You remember him, right?”_

_There was another delay as he seemed to consider the other’s words, then he uttered, a little calmer than before, “Booker…”_

_The response encouraged the others to reintroduce themselves as well, one by one. It was slow, but Moonjumper gradually seemed to accept each of them with the same, bittersweet relief they felt when they found him. All the while though, Hat Kid stared in confusion at the Dwellers. She’d met the seamstress. She’d met the baker. Teal and azure blue… None of the other ghosts had red bodies either, or wore the mostly blank masks that they did in present-day._

_She looked back in the direction they’d entered from—toward a hole in the rock that matched the cave entrance they’d arrived from. It was blocked off, covered with thick strands of red thread. It expanded along the rock wall and surrounding boulders, like it was trying to keep the whole section of land stitched together. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what was happening, but she couldn’t chase away the foreboding that shadowed over her._

_“You’re all really here!” Moonjumper exclaimed, a pained chuckle resounding from his throat, “You’re all ok!” He held one of their tails in his hand, as though in a kind of firm handshake to brace himself and confirm that he wasn’t imagining things. With the other, he traced his fingers along the seamstress’s mask._

_“We thought you departed from us too…”_

_“So, the others…?”_

_Here, the happy reunion had to ebb. “N-not all of us, no…” one of the Dwellers confessed, “We think some people may have gotten away in time, but a lot of us are gone. It’s mostly the little ones left.”_

_“Your Highness?” the deer mask Dweller asked, “What happened to you? Some of the others said that they saw you in the village, but you were supposed to be away for your studies. What happened then? What happened to the Queen? Why did she do this?!”_

_“Nevermind that for now,” dismissed another, holding off the onslaught of questions with a wave of his tail. However, he voiced his own concerns, “Your Highness, there’s a shadow spirit that’s taken over the forest! He’s taken some of the children hostage and tricked them into working for him! You have to help us save them!”_

_They couldn’t see it, but their words were starting to gravelly affect him. Hat Kid noticed it in the way he let go, inching back. His shoulders slumped down before drawing rigged once more, and his fingers twitched before curling into shaky fists at his sides then unclenching again. He began to shake his head, much to their dismay._

_“We’ll fight with you!” the azure Dweller tried to reassure him, misinterpreting the gesture. “Together, we can take our home back, but we need you to lead us! Please, your parents are gone, but you’re just as capable as they were.”_

_“The Queen’s guards are all still on_ her _side, but there’s still a few of our own warriors remaining,” explained the seamstress, “Things are different now, I know, but after we round everyone up, we should be strong enough.”_

_“Please, we’ll follow any plan: Just tell us what to do! After we’re chased off that spirit, maybe we can even reclaim the village and take down Vanessa—!”_

_“Stay back.”_

_The order barely came out as more than a whisper, but the cold way it was said was more than enough to catch the group of-guard. Nevertheless, one of the Dwellers tried to move close to him again anyway, reaching out to him, “Your Highness…?”_

“I said get back!”

_With a wild swing of his arm, Moonjumper lashed out at the Dwellers. Although he didn’t hit them, red cords manifested from his fingertips and cut through the still air. Hat Kid watched in mute terror as they struck the bewildered Dwellers, taking a life of their own and snaking around their bodies, seemingly electrifying them with a magic the same shade of crimson. Each released an agonizing scream, fidgeting in midair as the strings tightened around them. Then their bodies began to warp as they weakened, taking the shape of wispy souls similar to how her own had appeared when Snatcher had taken it. Then they fell into an unconscious state, dropping to the ground, the masks of those who had them clacking against the hard earth when they landed._

_Moonjumper just stared, horrified at what he’d just done. He shook his head a second time, burrowing his fingers through his hair once again as his chest rose and fell heavily, taking the illusion of a panicked breath. Cautiously, he drifted back over to them. He tried to rouse them with shaky hands, but they didn’t respond._

_The young alien knew this wouldn’t be the only time he’d do something like this though. There were only five Dwellers here and countless ones spread across the Horizon. This was just an accident, but someday, he’d learn to control the wicked ability and bend others under it._

_As she watched the threads wrap around the masks and each of the ghosts’ ethereal bodies take on a red glow, she thought of all the faceless Dwellers she’d come across. There were probably some naturally that color, but this was why there were so many. This was what some of the spirits had tried to warn her about._

_More of them had appeared: The cords snapped across the wide expanse of memory, taking it over. Were they somehow manipulating it?_

_The question was answered for her as the deer masked Dweller was the first to finally awaken, taking back his former shape but he once rich, green color now mostly a deep, seeping red. For a moment, as he struggled to rise, it seemed that Moonjumper would help him up, but he then drew himself back just as quickly. The Dweller looked around, bewildered, then turned to Moonjumper and called to him in a small voice, “Your Highness…?”_

_It took a second for Moonjumper to respond. He took a deep breath to calm himself first, “Are you alright? Do you… remember anything?”_

_“I-I don’t know…” the boy answered, then winced in pain. He stared hard at the ground. “Woodward… I think I’m supposed to be a woodward. Where are we…?”_

_The more he questioned, the more the strings seemed to tighten around his mask—first enveloping the eye sockets before wrapping over the rest. The strings didn’t just act as an attack: They were some kind of mind-control. They were all over the rift because they were actively warping the Dweller’s memories. She couldn’t get rid of them because they weren’t an anomaly: They were an infestation of magic against his mind. If it weren’t for the rift, then she probably would never have learned about his true past. His memories were likely kept buried where no one could ever retrieve them, not unless he managed to fight back against the strings himself._

_How strong was this power? Did it just manipulate memories or could the phantom ruler fully control people if he wanted to? The idea terrified her and for a moment she imagined the cords as puppet strings, the voice of the Dwellers’ being their own, but the words belonging to Moonjumper._

_She thought of the Dweller she’d ran across on the outskirts of town, the one who tried to get her to escape the Horizon with him. A hand flew over her mouth. This was happening to him: It was just happening at a slower rate, maybe because of a weak or incomplete version of the attack or because he was still trying to fight it. Moonjumper didn’t do this to everyone though, so who were his targets then? Just anyone that brought up his past or anyone that tried to leave?_

_The more she thought about it, the more her fear grew. However, it wasn’t simply because of a newfound awareness to the danger she was in. It was because she knew what she had to do. She couldn’t just run away, not when it meant turning her back on so many. She would have to face the prince’s full strength herself._

_Moonjumper was reluctant, but he placed a hand over the Dweller’s ‘head’ in attempt to comfort him. “That’s right. That’s who you are,” he said, as if trying to reaffirm the fact for himself just as much, “And… it may not look like it right now, but we’re home.”_


	25. Act Seven: The Dark Side of the Moon, part i

One, final level down—to at last claim the rift’s Time Piece—and Hat Kid was thrust back to the Horizon in the present, posed along the castle’s outer walls as the dweller crow flew away in a burst of feathers and angry caws. One starry sky was traded for another and she was falling, facing the several meter drop to the streets below and she scrambled to hang on to the hourglass in one hand and her umbrella with the other. She tried to use its hook to latch onto a notch in the stonework, but missed and looked on in shock—still half-dazed by her return to reality—as the safety of the wall grew further beyond reach.

Before the terror of the moment could truly settle in though, something coiled around her waist. As her body was jerked upright through the air, Hat Kid glanced over her shoulder to see the red Dweller struggling to slow their descent. She was jarred around as his ethereal tail fought to maintain a hold on her material body, and at times it felt like her stomach was sinking through a heavy curtain of mist before he regained his grip once again.

Soon enough, her feet found solid ground. However, the young alien was too busy staring at her rescuer to feel any relief. Like most of the other red Dwellers, his mask was featureless. Now she could see it though: The shape of antlers and the subtle frame that once marked its deer-like features. The red strings were woven so close together, so tightly around it, that it seemed to have been washed with the vibrant color. As the Dweller let go of her, Hat Kid reached out a hand to brush his cheek—just _barely_ feeling the threaded texture over its hard surface. Even if she thought it would help, there was no hope in her trying to remove them. It was like a physical manifestation of damage that ran far deeper than she alone could heal.

“Are you alright?” the Dweller asked with deep concern. It was almost disturbing now, how _normal_ he sounded. “You shouldn’t be playing up that high! Not unless you feel like staying with us a whole lot longer…”

Should she try getting through to him by tapping into one of his hidden memories? She considered it, but—thinking of the mass of threads knotted and pull taut throughout them—she didn’t believe she could. It was likely that they not only blocked off certain memories, but warped them as well, stitching together a false “reality” in-place of the ones lost. 

She thought of two of the other Dwellers who’d initially followed Moonjumper to the Horizon: The baker, the seamstress… Even though the latter’s daughter seemed to have managed to find her own way here later on, there had been a disconnect between what the two appeared to believe: With one convinced to stay here out of safety and the other struggling to separate this copied civilization from the real Subcon Forest. She didn’t think the young woman was blind or ignorant to her mother’s state; however, it was possible she’d also been tricked into thinking that part of her mind was simply lost, affected by the tragedy of Subcon’s destruction and security Moonjumper provided.

‘Security,’ but not freedom. At least the Dwellers were safe, but even many of those that had apparently chosen to stay here of their own free will likely only did so out of either fear or deception. If she had even a remote chance of helping them, would they even be willing to let her? Probably not, still, resolve swallowed fear as she braced herself for the confrontation ahead.

Reading her expression gradually go from still terror to hardened determination as he waited without reply, the red Dweller again asked, “Are you ok? O-of course, we don’t have a doctor, but maybe you should rest.”

Hat Kid managed to draw a smile onto her lips, shaking her head to clear it. “I’m fine, thank you. I just need to find Moonjumper.”

“Oh, that’s right!” he then exclaimed, “The prince was looking for you! He’s in the palace garden.”

At least she wouldn’t have to search for him… She bid the Dweller a quick goodbye, stowing away the Time Piece as she spun on her heel to round back to the palace entrance, clenching her hands at her sides as she moved thereafter. The girl knew the way well now. Still, the halls somehow felt longer than before—if not quite as empty. She was almost hyper-aware of her surroundings, as if some unseen danger might turn the corners ahead. Nevertheless, despite all of her feelings, the place was silent and still, as always.

She guessed that this would be one of the last—if not _the_ last—times she would walk these halls again, so Hat Kid made one, short stop at her room to gather the rest of her belongings and shove them however they would fit into her bag. The lack of confidence in the action made her stomach churn, but past experience told her she was in the right. If she had to make a hasty retreat, there’d be no time to collect anything.

A minute before she reached the garden, the young alien felt eyes aimed at the back of her skull. Although he didn’t show it—just as he hadn’t all those other times—Moonjumper was ready for her. The phantom ruler waited by a plot of iridescent flowers in full-bloom, turning his gaze all-to-perfectly in sync to her arrival. 

“I’m not sure how many of these relics you lost, but I believe there shouldn’t be too many more for you to find here.” His voice maintained its usual calm, although she thought she caught something only _slightly_ lighter in his tone. Whether joy or relief, she didn’t know. Her mind was too busy to question it as she stared at the hourglass-shape he held in his hand. He waved it pointedly in the air for her attention, “I’m sure you look forward to returning to the mortal world as well. You must miss your home very much.”

The child said nothing at first, only giving him a nod in reply. All heated words and questions died on her lips. If she wanted the Time Piece, she had to play nice for just a minute longer until he handed it over. There was one thing in her favor: The way he spoke, he didn’t know that the relic in his hands was the last one she needed—and, by extension, he didn’t know where she’d been up until that moment. “Where did you find it?” she asked, stalling to recollect her thoughts and approach.

“Some of my guard captured it from a few of the nature sprites entering the realm,” he answered, then continued almost to himself, “They’re several weeks early, actually… These things can happen if they’ve dealt with a drastic change in their environment. It can confuse them.”

 _Something like the planet suddenly overflowing with lava?_ she mused, but kept it to herself. Since the Horizon was a separate realm altogether, maybe Mustache Girl’s tampering with time hadn’t affected it as it did her alternate world.

“I’ll need to prepare for them,” the phantom prince explained, “meaning I’ll be even busier than usual. I’m sorry for being a poor host.” 

Hat Kid breathed a little easier as he carefully placed the Time Piece into her waiting hands, although she couldn’t help staring at his own with caution. That cold, yet certain touch was different to her now. Every movement stayed purposeful; however, instead of being the guiding sway of a ruler leading his people, they now seemed like a puppetmaster’s manipulative gestures from the shadows. She wanted to back away, but settled for tucking the hourglass into her pack with the rest. 

“It’s fine…” She remained courteous to avoid pressuring him, worried that—when she did start asking questions—she might accidently back him into a corner. “I’m just happy to get my Time Pieces back, and I liked exploring everything so…”

Her sentence drifted as she struggled to talk to him as she once had. Luckily, it was enough to pass. Moonjumper folded his arms behind his back and looked off to the distance. “It’s strange. You shouldn’t be here, but—I admit—it’s been a joy having you as my guest. You’ve, for lack of a better word, _livened_ things here. I think the others agree.”

Hat Kid bit the inside of her lower lip. Beyond her initial wonder, this place felt so quiet and empty partly due to Moonjumper’s actions. Yes, he kept the ghosts and spirits here safe and content, but there was still a malaise hanging over everything. The state of the town, kept in a near-perfection reflect of the past, showed a refusal to move forward. Many of the Dwellers he’d brainwashed, like the baker and seamstress, played the roles they’d carried in their former lives—roles that didn’t hold the same purpose now due to their phantasmal existences. On top of that, his control over them had clearly muddled their minds. 

Furthermore, the enforcement of the masks protected them from the Horizon’s visions, yes, but it also blocked any chance for the ghosts to face whatever burden hung over them in death and move past it. The ones who successfully did so had all apparently left, carrying on wherever they belonged in their afterlives. The ones who didn’t remained, trapped in an unnatural state of permanence, like toys left shelved for display, to help the phantom prince preserve a life that’d already been lost.

“It may be _many_ years from now, but when you eventually depart from the mortal coil,” he added, “I hope you know you can return here and make yourself at home.”

Whatever he thought, it wasn’t reassuring. Somehow, even the idea of working for Snatcher for all eternity seemed a better alternative. At least his minions were allowed to slip off every now and then. She managed a small smile anyway, then sighed, “I don’t think I’d really fit in.”

The prince tilted his head as he looked back at her, caught off-guard by the comment. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m not from Subcon. You can’t fit me anywhere.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d reacted poorly, hearing that name. His shoulders rose in subtle tension, though confusion never left his steady gaze. 

“That’s where you were from, wasn’t it? And you’re trying to remake everything like how Subcon Forest used to be as much as possible.” The child didn’t wait for him to question how she knew that, excusing herself early with a half-truth, “I started recognizing the paths and buildings. You tried to match them.”

He was quiet for a long moment, then, slowly, he nodded. “Yes, it was my home, for a while…” his voice became almost emotionless, falling into a soft, thoughtful murmur. He returned her half-truth with his own. “As you know, I wasn’t wholly myself when I arrived here. Recreating things I once knew helped.”

“And the Dwellers?”

“They arrived after I did.” The initial shock was starting to wear off, “Did someone make you feel like you couldn’t belong here because you’re not a Dweller? Child, ghosts and spirits from all other the world have come here. There’s no need to feel out of place.” 

“Some of them think they’re _still_ in Subcon,” she pressed further, hugging her pack close to her chest, “Some of them don’t even seem to remember what happened or why they died! Do they even remember what the _real_ Subcon used to be like? It’s not right!”

“Do they need to remember?”

The question made Hat Kid pause. It was asked with sincerity, but she could hardly imagine why he’d ask that at all. To her, it seemed obvious: Memories were important, and no one had a right to take or distort them. Throughout all her adventures, there wasn’t anything or anyone she wanted to forget. 

However, Moonjumper continued, speaking with sad, but honest confidence, “If there was a memory so terrible that it could break you, wouldn’t it better to let it—and all the pain it wrought—go?” He raised a finger, tapping the side of his skull, “’It would have been better if we never met.’ ‘I was happier before I ever knew what this or that was like.’ ‘I hate myself. I can’t forgive myself, and I hate myself even more.’ ‘I want to go back to how things were before, when I was young and innocent.’ These are the kinds of things people tell themselves, cursing the things that bubble up from the backs of their minds and keep them awake at night. If they managed to forget all of that, if they’re happier this way, is it so wrong?”

She fell silent. It wasn’t like she didn’t have things she regretted, or things that still hurt her, but she still couldn’t imagine giving up a single memory. Her thoughts went to the deer-masked Dweller though, how he’d gone from a young man happily in love; to a broken soul beyond consoling, overwhelmed by loss. Maybe that’s what he forgot, and why he carried himself the way he did now. She thought of the masks everyone here wore, including Moonjumper himself, to bar the Horizon’s visions. 

She guessed she could understand, but it was like believing a lie, wasn’t it? A beautiful lie, maybe sometimes, but a lie all the same. If you did something that you couldn't forgive yourself for, would forgetting regret be worth forgetting a lesson that helped you grow? If you lost someone you cared about, would forgetting the pain be worth forgetting all of the love you felt for them? 

“Granted, the loss of their memories keeps them from ever moving on…” he admitted in a voice even quieter than before, almost a whisper, “They can’t heal from something they can’t remember, but then there are some wounds that don’t heal to begin with.”

_You’re wrong…_

That’s what she wanted to tell him, but she didn’t. Hat Kid got the feeling he was speaking from experience. The ruined replica of Vanessa’s manor in the ice women’s territory… Was that from where he’d tried to remember, but the pain was too much? Was that why he altered the Horizon as he did, to look like Subcon in a time before Vanessa’s storm, and live how his life might’ve been if he never fell in love with her? 

He was still wrong though: Even if they left a nasty scar, wounds _did_ heal. Snatcher was proof of that. Maybe he let himself become a monster, but he didn’t let what happened consume him entirely. He made new homes for his people, gave them new bodies and new purpose, protected them and urged that there was still something more to their phantasmal existences—even if they couldn’t move on to the next world just yet. All that with many still failing to realize it… If Moonjumper and Snatcher really were _both_ the prince, the same person, then the Horizon’s ruler should’ve also had that chance.

The girl flinched as a cold hand removed her hat and patted her head, chains scraping against her ear from the other’s wrist. She was so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed how silent and solemn she had become. It was strange, Moonjumper trying to comfort her like this. She still felt uneasy and was angry at him for what he was doing, but wasn’t without sympathy. After all, even he was a victim of his own beliefs. He’d had to dip low to reach her. His face was within arm’s reach. 

Meaning he had no time to draw back as she reached up and pulled off his mask.

The loose fabric that bundled around the back of his head came with it, first revealing waves of locks like dark, arctic waters that framed Moonjumper’s—the prince’s—face in an unruly way. Even after seeing him in the time rift, she was still stunned by it. For the most part, his blue skin was the same, but his lips and the rims of his eyes were a darker, more greyed color. The eyes themselves were the most striking: The irises drained of color, but the normally pure white sclera overtaken by a vibrant, bloodshot red—streaks that failed to branch off like veins, but rather overlapped in taut, straight lines like his scarlet thread.

Hat Kid stepped back, “I know who you were, Moonjumper. And I don’t think you should keep anyone in the dark like this. The Dwellers have family and friends that they left behind in the real Subcon, and you have to still be hurting too. You’re not even giving yourself the chance to get better, so please, try to remember.”

His first three, real expressions were as follows: Surprise, fear, and rage. After fully coming to terms with what she’d done, a hand shakingly rising to graze his own cheek, he snapped his gaze to the ground and stared hard at the cobblestone before closing his eyes tightly shut—fingers soon tangled in his hair as he covered his face. Slowly, he began to mumble under his breath, and the panicked way his body arched around itself made the child step further back with caution. A near half-minute passed before she heard it, the demand spoken in a sharp, angry chant: _Give it back._

“ _Give it back!”_

The final cry tore from his throat in a furious shout. Moonjumper dove toward the girl, knocking her to the ground as he tried to rip the mask from her grasp. Instead, it was knocked out of her hold, sent skidding across the ground with noisy clatter.

He continued after it. Hat Kid reached out to grab him, but just missed the edge of his cloak. When it was finally in his possession once more, desperation ebbed, but fury remained. His eyes were wild: He was far from the calm, collected prince she knew. She opened her mouth to speak, to beg him not to put it on, but there was no room to talk. With a wave of his hand, the ground began to quake, then it opened up beneath her.

Then she slipped into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Little fun fact I picked up while researching for this… Apparently, hypothermia can actually cause amnesia. I was just musing over the song lyrics to “Masked” before, but I’ll gladly accept any happy accident that vindicates what I was going for. XD 


	26. Act Seven: The Dark Side of the Moon, part ii

_What was she doing again?_

_Hat Kid looked up from where she lay in the grass, rubbing the back of her aching head. She knew she was forgetting something important, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was—not until she looked up at the miasmic sky above her through a barren canopy of craggily, overlapping branches. Right: She’d beamed down to some forest in her hunt for Time Pieces. It was supposed to be a clear drop, but accidents did happen. She must’ve hit a branch or two on the way._

_Even from space, the forest hadn’t been a welcoming sight: A viscous, swirling purple mass that coated the landscape like a kind of poison. The alien had hunted through her ship’s records for any useful information. It wasn’t much—all of the data her species had on the planet was old to say the least—but she did learn about the massive, shattered Time Piece located within its depths. Curiosity tied to necessity urged her to search the foreboding place sooner rather than later._

_She’d landed in the middle of a clearing centered around a large tree with a natural moat encompassing its base. Fires raged around it, both near and distant, although some acted as strange barriers that—while failing to burn any of the nearby wood—loomed threateningly over her when she neared. Beyond that, most of the forest was shrouded in a heavy gloom. A gnarled, thorny vine made for a bridge and the trunk had been carved out to fashion an odd house with twin, maw-like openings on either side. Despite this, however, the warm glow exuding from its interior was almost inviting._

_She might’ve ventured inside if a voice from behind, spoken in a breathy tenor, hadn’t stopped her, “Hello, child. You seem lost.”_

_Startled, Hat Kid turned around to face a strange, spectral being hovering in the air. His skin was a pale blue and his face was covered by a crescent-shaped mask bearing a wide, eternal smile. A jolt of terror first coursed down her spine—she’d never seen a ghost before, had never even known they existed beyond superstition—but at the same time, the phantom didn’t seem all that scary. He merely waited for her to respond with a tilt of his head, barely moving beyond his subtle rise and fall as he levitated in place._

_She remained wary, but kept her umbrella down as she asked, “Who are you?”_

_“I am the Moonjumper. I live and breathe the Horizon, it is my home,” he answered readily, “I was just about to return there, actually. This isn’t any place I want to linger.” He gestured toward her with a pointed nod, “This isn’t any place for a little girl either. What are you doing here?”_

_The child debated how much she should tell him. She’d already faced off against a range of enemies who’d wanted the Time Pieces. A ghost probably had more reason than anyone to steal one, using its power to change their fate. Nevertheless, with another look around, she also considered how lost she was here. Combing through the forest would take time, so she needed all the help she could get. “I’m looking for hourglasses,” she confessed at last, “Have you seen any?”_

_The specter paused for a quick second, then seemed to chuckle to himself, “Funny, that you should mention it…”_

_A haze of floating pixels seemed to manifest at the wave of his hand as he moved back. Hat Kid took a step away herself, watching in awe as the air began to distort in front of her, cubes of color blurring together and taking shape in quick succession before her eyes. Was this some kind of summoning spell? She didn’t really get the chance to wholly rationalize what was happening as the shapes split off into nine blurs that warped themselves into Time Pieces._

_It was stranger still though to wrap her head around how easy this was compared to all she had gone through to collect the others thus far. Half-amazed, her jaw hung slack as the Time Pieces hovered gently down onto the grass under Moonjumper’s guiding hand. It took her a second longer to get over her shock and collect them, scrambling to pull off her backpack and tuck them inside one-by-one._

_This was all of them: Each and every one she’d needed to find in the forest._ Unbelievable… _Too easy. With a raised brow and the last hourglass in hand, Hat Kid looked back toward the ghost, “This is… really nice of you.”_

_Easily reading the confliction in her eyes, he returned her gratitude with a somewhat dismissive wave, “Think nothing about it. I’ve actually been investigating these relics myself.” Before she could wince at her failed subtlety, he continued, “You see, there are a number of these scattered across my realm as well, taken by various spirits. They’ve been causing some trouble as a result. I presume they’re also yours?”_

_She nodded, biting her lower lip. Another, aching pang shot through her head._

_“These are quite the treasures you have. Powerful relics for someone so young.” Moonjumper crossed his arms behind his back, moving away in a pacing fashion as he paused for a moment’s thought. After brief consideration, he turned back to her, his calm voice a little sterner than before, “I can’t spare the manpower to go search for them. The Horizon is a big place and my subjects are few… It will be dangerous, but—if you wish—you’re free to return there with me and continue the hunt yourself.”_

_The young alien could only blink back up at him in reply. On one hand, this was better than she could’ve ever hoped. Nine Time Pieces in one swoop: This was_ by far _the most she had collected in so short a span. Even in Mafia Town, she had been lucky to gather two or three at most in a single day. She didn’t really have any second to waste and should’ve jumped at the chance to gather as many as she could as soon as possible._

 _However, something still nagged at her—starting with how helpful and curt Moonjumper was being, as if he’d known her intentions well before she got there. That, and she didn’t know what—or where—the Horizon was. Could she really just follow him to some, strange place? Even if he_ was _trustworthy, what if wherever he took her made it hard to get back to her ship?_

_Did she even have a choice?_

_Seeing her reluctance, he explained further, “Of course, you’ll need to prepare first. My home is a kind of spirit realm, so it will be difficult traveling back and forth from the mortal world. It would be best if you gathered enough supplies for a long stay. In any case, leave now. These woods are too dangerous.”_

_She nodded, although she still hadn’t really given him an answer yet on whether or not she’d even go with him at all._

_Maybe it was the fall or how many questions rushed through her mind, but her head still hurt. She braced it in her free hand, fingers rubbing her scalp. She felt tired and even a little sick. It could’ve been the forest’s miasma affecting her as well, since it was strong enough to blanket the land in a thick layer of darkness. Whatever it was, she wanted to go back to her ship—and she would’ve if it weren’t for the nagging feeling that persisted above the others. “I think…” it was getting harder to find her words, “I think I want to look around for a bit though. Just in case I’m still missing a Time Piece.”_

_She_ felt _like she was still missing something anyway, so that had to be it: An hourglass left unaccounted for. She wanted to examine the forest’s large, ruined Time Piece as well. What were its coordinates again…?_

“What’s wrong, kiddo? You don’t know where to go?”

_Hat Kid thought she heard someone else. Another tenor similar, but different to Moonjumper’s: It carried a proud, jeering tone, and had a slight gravel that vibrated as if the words were spoken through a filter. It was irritating. She half-expected to find somebody sitting in the tall armchair nestled within the home: She glanced over her shoulder, however, and saw no one._

_“There’s nothing left for you to find, child,” Moonjumper shook his head, extending a hand toward her, “Let me guide you out of this forest. I assure you, you’ll be perfectly safe.”_

_Thoughts split between her headache, the invasive voice, and the present, she only half-paid attention as she slipped her hand into the phantom’s own. His touch was firm and bittercold, but gentle. As he led the way through the shadowed, overgrown woodland trails, the girl kept looking back at the tree behind them and the warm light to exuded._

_A strange sadness fell over her. The more she dwelled on it, the worse she felt—so bad that she might’ve tried to purge the feeling from her mind entirely if it weren’t for the letterbox that caught her eye next. Fashioned to a tree immediately to her left along the path, there was no way to miss it. Despite the forsaken setting, it looked well kept, even modern. She stared at it for a long while as they passed, unconsciously reaching for a badge on her hat that wasn’t there._

“Goooooood morning! Are you ready to complete your contractual obligations?”

_Hat Kid heard it again. Now though, the voice didn’t grate on her nerves as much: She actually felt a small smile tug at her lips, as if she were hearing an old friend. It was enough for her to stop in her tracks, much to Moonjumper’s surprise as he looked back at her with a tilt of his head._

“Every so often, I sneak into mailboxes and steal letters, then deliver them to my minions. That way, it’s almost like someone cares about them.”

The minions… _She blinked in confusion. Why did that seem so familiar?_

_“Child?”_

_Looking out to the vast expanse of woodlands, she began to envision some of its shadows taking new shape. Kid-sized, doll-like bodies cloaked in a deep purple. Bright faces staring back at her from the darkness. Some of the them mocking, most of them friendly. Fun… They were fun to be around, fun to talk to. Carefree, if grim, a lot like—_

_She took another glance back at the big tree. Even the maw-shaped opening of its trunk seemed to morph into something new: A wide, grinning face with twin fangs. It too was so familiar to her. It filled her with a baffling sense of combined fear and joy. She remembered terror and pain, being pushed to her limits as she fought for her life, but also much laughter. The former tried overruling the latter, assaulting her with visions of thorns surrounding her from all sides, towering figures, swirling mists of purple and blue, the harsh sting of severe burns, and an empty feeling in her chest. Cries ricocheted through her mind in a chaotic uproar, attacking her skull with a sharp, piercing pain:_

“Put your name on the contract or I’ll make your dead, hollow body sign it for you!”

“You didn’t think I was going to let you keep all these Time Pieces, did you? They fell in _my_ forest, kid! They belong to me!”

“Say goodbye to that little head of yours!”

_She hated it: How much fear swept over her, how much it hurt. Everything in her told her to run—leave the voices behind, focus on the security of the hand that still gripped her own in a steady embrace—and never look back. The things that they screamed at her didn’t make any sense! All they did was fill her with dread._

_It was so warm though, that face, that home. Even far along the trail as they were, it shone like a beacon in the darkness, a lighthouse set above a miasmic sea. Despite all of her fear and confusion, it was all she wanted to run to. So she did._

_Or she tried to. The instant the girl let go of Moonjumper’s hand and turned on her heels to race back the way she came, she felt something thin, but strong tug at her wrist. A sharp, surprised cry left Hat Kid as it yanked her arm back. It hurt, biting deep into her flesh through the fabric of her sleeve. The more she tried to fight it, the worse her visions seemed to be, but they were easier to fight now. Real as they were, she knew there was something more on the other side of them—that something she was missing._

_She thought it might be Moonjumper trying to hold her back, but when she looked toward him, he had already vanished. In his place—stretched by the thousands across every branch, trunk, and stone, so much that they blanketed over the entire landscape in a distorted haze like the furious scribbles of a madman scratching out a work of art—were a series of intersecting red cords. A half-dozen of them were lopped around her wrist, capturing it in a taut hold._

_Another scream left her and she attempted to lash out at them with her umbrella. However, all it did was knock the thread aside with her pulled after them, causing her to stumble along the ground. All the while, they seemed to expand across the whole of the forest, devouring everything in sight in a blaze of red. The way back was closing behind her. The bright faces in the wood were disappearing, drowned out by the viscous color. More cords seemed to envelop tighter across her body, sending her writhing along the ground as she fought to escape them and retreat back to the large tree—what seemed now to be the only haven left in that cursed place._

_She had to go back! There was something she had to see, someone she had to meet! The young alien didn’t know how she knew, but there were still things she needed to do here! She needed to explore fields of fire and ice. She needed to take back something that was stolen. She needed to dance by roaring flames, brave a haunted manor, and talk to a village of ghosts. She needed to befriend them._

_She didn’t want to forget._

* * *

She didn’t want to forget.

Hat Kid’s eyes flew open. The world that had been slowly devoured by red now only consumed half her vision. Minus the crisscrossing wires stretched over a wide void that radiated with a dim glow, the rest of her sight was bathed in complete darkness. Her limbs her bound, but she was fastened in a limp crouch along a cold floor. Her head still hurt, but the visions had fled. Instead, however, a harsh, strained series of coughs shook her chest and it was hard to breathe.

She remembered now. Moonjumper. The Horizon. Between labored breaths, anger coursed through her upon realizing what the phantom prince had tried to do. Blending it with the first time they had met, he’d tried to overwrite her memories of Subcon Forest—the village, the minions, Snatcher, all of it. She’d nearly forgotten all of them…

What was he thinking?! What was he even planning to do with her after that? Well, given how he’d panicked after she’d stolen his mask, maybe he wasn’t really thinking at all, but what would wiping _her_ memories really accomplish? Maybe he just wanted to keep her from alerting the Dwellers and possibly curing their own cursed amnesia, or maybe he simply wanted to avoid confronting the issue altogether. It was probably the easiest solution to him now, taking other people’s memories, after all these years. It still didn’t quell her outrage. 

As another strangled cough coursed through her though, Hat Kid realized she had bigger concerns. She didn’t know where she was or how long she’d been unconscious, but another thing she remembered was Moonjumper’s initial warning to her the first time they’d met. She’d felt sick then too, all thanks to the heavy ether that filled the Horizon’s atmosphere.

She needed to eat something from the spirit world regularly or else it would kill her.

It was hard to tell from the dull glow of the strings, but as Hat Kid looked down at her hand through her uncovered eye, she noticed it seemed paler than normal. No, not pale: _Transparent._ Ghost-like. Whether or not Moonjumper had meant to let her time run out, it was! The girl became frantic, twisting herself among the threads as she feverishly searched for her backpack! She had it when she fell! It had to be there!

She actually found her umbrella first, kicking it with the tip of her boot in her panic. Swinging her body around, urging it into her grip with the tips of her fingers, she continued to look around for her bag and spotted it just under a meter away. When she finally grasped her weapon, she quickly fired her hookshot at the pack, capturing it by one of its straps and reeling over to her side. 

The restraining cords made it difficult, but somehow, she was able to rip it open and tear out a bit of food from inside—one of the baker’s little cakes, she found, as she shoved it in her mouth and then hurried to free herself. Her fingers found her hats next, all stashed together in a smashed heap within the confines of her bag. She pulled the hard hat out first, setting it aside with the light on to help her see, and then found her brewing hat next. 

There were still a few vials left over from where she’d tried copying Snatcher’s potions. It had been potent enough in the fights and it had even worked against the fire spirits before. Hat Kid wasn’t sure if it could actually act as a weapon against all spiritual energies, or if hers was even as strong as the Subcon Ruler’s. Still, she didn’t have much else to try. Swallowing down the last bite of cake, she ripped off the potion’s cap with her teeth and began to pour it across the cords.

A wicked hiss, like burning acid, cut through the silence. Much to her relief, the liquid began to eat at her bounds, igniting the severed tips of the threads with brief, violet flashes of light as the opposing colors overlapped. She felt the hold on her arms lessen, next dripping the potion on her legs and shaking off the cords. Despite the minor success though, she still tugged away at the ones lashed around her face, too afraid to risk getting the concoction on her own skin. Even if she wasn’t a ghost, it had already proven to be almost as effective against the living in her battle with Snatcher.

Her hands stung—small abrasions running across her fingers—but she was able to free herself completely at last. The immediate danger passed, it also left her free to wonder where exactly she’d landed. She couldn’t have been far from the castle, the way the ground had opened up. Maybe she was in some, distant section of the goblins’ mines? Hat Kid hoped not, on the off-chance she ran into her skeletal ‘friend’ once again…

The child shuffled her pack back on and reclaimed her hard hat. Its light failed to reach any surface beyond the expanse of earth at her feet, but she noticed again the cords surrounding her. Although she couldn’t see where they went, they had to be connected to something: They wouldn’t have been able to suspend her weight or themselves otherwise. Gingerly this time, she took one of the broken cords and began to follow it.

Where exactly was Moonjumper? He probably hadn’t expected her break free from his spell or his threads—not until the last of her memories had been completely overwritten anyway—so maybe Hat Kid had at least bought herself some time to make a clean getaway. Nevertheless, she’d have to be careful to avoid him and his Dwellers. The Horizon was his completely to control: He could manipulate it however he saw fit to trap her. If someone spotted her, there’d be no guarantee of escape a second time…

At last, she came to a wall and from there she followed it to the wide, stone stairwell. The steps were old and rudimentarily carved, but a clear light shone at the top of them, leading to freedom. Hat Kid raced up without hesitation, bracing herself for the challenge to come.

She found herself back on the first floor of the palace, in a hall she didn’t recognize.


	27. Act Seven: The Dark Side of the Moon, part iii

After all this time, she thought she’d know where she was going well enough by now. Whether curiously wandering around or in search of Moonjumper, she’d walked through the castle plenty during her stay. She shouldn’t have been too far from the garden either… Hat Kid switched out her hard hat for her mask as she explored, on the lookout for any signs or movement as much as a possible secret passage out. Although—for once—she was grateful for the emptiness, it wasn’t the first time she cursed the silence as her footsteps echoed off the stone walls.

It was several tense minutes before she found something familiar, darting past the dining and ballrooms to reach the wide foyer. If the literal ghost town were any more populated, the young alien would’ve thought against charging out the front door; however, she knew the entrance would be equally as empty as the rest of the palace and she could sneak around the outside walls and mountain pass to cross the ravine just as she had before. That was, until a heavy metal gate stopped her in her tracks.

It fell swiftly and with a loud clang, dropping over her almost like a guillotine. Hat Kid dodged it with a shocked scream, rearing back and stumbling to the ground. Just as in the spectral goats’ home, there was no switch or crank to control it. Unfortunately, she didn’t see a Dweller bell either…

“And where do you think you’re running off too?” The child scrambled onto her feet, looking around in all directions. Moonjumper’s voice seemed to come from everywhere, having regained its calm, but now far colder than ever before. “You woke up sooner than I expected. You must have a very strong mind. Or maybe I chose the wrong memories.”

Hat Kid scowled at the walls, choking down her nerves, “Let me go, Moonjumper!”

“And then you’ll do what?” His voice was much nearer now—from up high. She raised her head to see him weightlessly balanced on the edge of a drum chandelier a few meters above. He’d put back on his own mask already, which stared down at her with that wide, fake smile. “Convince my subjects to turn against me? Change their minds? You’d challenge everything they think they’ve known for generations.”

Hat Kid moved away—already eying the halls with a sidelong glance to decide her next attempt at escape—while the phantom prince lowered himself with a slow, purposeful glide. He was still about a meter from the floor when he stopped. Even with his hands behind his back, carrying himself with his usual, gentlemanly manner, he loomed over her domineeringly. If his original outburst hadn’t been evidence enough, the girl was beginning to see more and more each second who the various spirits called ‘Mad Moon.’

He continued, “Maybe you just want to leave with your Time Pieces and wash your hands of this place. I couldn’t fault you for that, but I also don’t believe you’re the sort to leave well enough alone.”

Well… He wasn’t wrong. The first thing she planned to do once she got away was tell Snatcher. Whether or not he believed her about Moonjumper or even knew who he was, he’d _have_ to act if he learned that some of the Dwellers were trapped here. There’s no way he’d let them stay like this! Not that she felt like admitting any of her intentions to the ghost before her though. 

“You really are such a troublesome child…” Moonjumper sighed. Red strings began to manifest as his fingertips as he raised his hands alongside him. “I’m afraid I just can’t let you leave now, dear. Don’t worry though: I’ll clear your mind completely this time and give you a suitable role here.”

He flicked his arm in fluid strike that whipped half the strings in her direction. Hat Kid lunged out of the way, landing in a tuck-and-roll before sprinting back to her feet and taking off down the opposite hall she came from. There were wide windows throughout the castle: If she could find one, she could break out in an instant!

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. She’d barely ran more than a few meters when the ground shifted beneath her. The beautiful tile arranged itself in a circle around her and then pillars of stone rose in sequence from the pattern, in attempt to cage her. As quick on her feet as she was with her thoughts, the girl propelled herself from one side to the other to make it over the top. All the while, a single order rang through her head: _No matter what, don’t stop!_

She smacked the wall to avoid colliding into it as she turned the corner. A series of tall windows stood along her left side just ahead, but as she neared them—one-by-one—they began to slam shut and her path grew dark. No matter how much she urged her legs to carry her forward, she couldn’t outpace them. To her other side, replacing the Horizon’s soft blues, a jagged row of crimson eyes began to appear along the wall. They followed her every move.

Moonjumper’s voice took to the air once again. He spoke as calmly as a doctor merely trying to convince her into taking a small shot, “There’s no sense in tiring yourself out. Don’t make this difficult.”

Grimacing, she ignored him. A slate of rock launched up from the patch of floor right in front of her. She couldn’t stop herself from running straight into it; however, she recovered fast. Kicking off its flat surface, she scaled over it without a glance back. She was afraid if she looked that she might break her pace even more than the misstep already had.

That couldn’t have been more evident as the eyes grew in number. Lining the outer wall now, they paralleled the first, from which red cords fired and connected to the other side—an eye for an eye. The strings flared dangerously bright and she dodged any that flew in her path. The ones ahead acted as tripwires for her to navigate through as swiftly as possible, diving under some and leaping across others.

Before she could disappear down another passage, the ground began to quake, then it lurched without warning, flinging her and everything else in the hall upward. A table slammed against the wall and fell. A vase shattered to the floor, spilling its luminescent flowers in a shallow pool. Beyond the second she waited fighting to maintain her balance, Hat Kid stayed upright, then kept going. 

From the very beginning, just about all the halls had looked the same. It was almost impossible for her to tell the difference if she wasn’t paying attention. That’s what made it even more disorienting when she shoved her way through a door—expecting it to be one of the guest rooms—and found herself in Moonjumper’s study. Unwilling to consider the time it would take to backtrack, she ran over to the balcony and looked down. No good! It was just too far a drop.

For a moment, her eyes briefly met the flowers growing along the balustrade that Moonjumper had shown her before. As much as she still marveled over his control of the landscape, it now equally filled her heart with dread. She spun on her heel to backtrack and race for the stairs. Even if he changed the layout, certain areas couldn’t go without notice: There had to be some things similar enough for her find her way out. Like the basic act of going down.

Just as with the windows, her path was cut off before she could reach it, the first step lifting itself up and sealing the stairwell. When she tried to retreat down the opposite end of the wall and find another way around, the phantom prince himself appeared through the floor and stopped her in her tracks. He swung at her again and she jumped to avoid the mess of cords launched her way.

“I won’t simply leave you as a blank slate,” he explained, “Of course you’ll have new memories to replace the old—much more pleasant ones that whatever visions the Horizon assaulted you with.”

She couldn’t pay attention to his goading. Hat Kid bit her lower lip and fell into a crouch, raising her umbrella before her and driving it at the ghost like a lance. The attack was unexpected, lending her the element of surprise as her weapon struck his chest at full force—although whether he didn’t think she would fight him so furiously or didn’t know her counter would affect him at all was beyond her. She was just grateful that the potion she’d coated her umbrella with was still potent enough to work.

After striking him a second time with an upward swing to the head, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the colors change in the reflection of the stonework. The walled-off stairwell suddenly changed to a bright indigo, shimmering with the same ethereal energy she had seen in other blocked reaches known primarily to the spirits. For just a split second, she glanced back to Moonjumper and noted his momentary lapse in focus as he braced his mask. Immediately after, she activated her own and retreated through the starry veil. 

Another quake already followed her even as she raced down the steps. The girl made it to the bottom only to find the whole level turned upside down. Aside from the path of the halls themselves, the majority of windows and doorways were just out of her reach. It wasn’t until she came across one of the palace’s round towers that was able to progress further. Here, she was forced to climb the stairs in reverse. The tower itself hadn’t faired the changes as well as most other areas, with large chunks of rock broken from both the walls and floor. Umbrella in-hand, Hat Kid used her hookshot to latch onto sconces and fly over gaps, or leapt upon the green, ghostly outlines of bricks that had undone themselves with the help of her mask.

At last, she came to an opening that spilled her outside—but now she was even higher up than before! At this rate, Moonjumper really could keep her going in circles until she was too tired to fight him! She was a mouse lost in an ever-changing maze, with him almost constantly acting as a steady observer. Maybe she had to be more erratic, to make it impossible to guess which direction she’d run toward next. However, if she didn’t also choose carefully where to go, she could end up cornering herself.

Moving along the outer walls, at least she was able to slow her pace a bit. She half-expected the walkway to crumble underneath her, but it remained stable. Her only guess was that it would draw all too much attention from the normally quiet town below and—for the time being—Moonjumper didn’t want to risk it. It gave her a much-needed chance to catch her breath a bit before scaling the closest watchtower and sneaking back in through a small gate. 

She didn’t notice the dancing lights that passed overhead.

Clearly, walking out the front door wasn’t an option anymore. The back of the castle was blocked off by the mountain: Unless she just happened to stumble along the right paths, the rough terrain would only be harder to navigate across. Was there a side entrance she’d forgotten, maybe a servant’s passage she could use in secret?

Would it matter if there was? As she climbed down the watchtower, one of the first things the young alien noticed was that it wasn’t as wide as the others. It would likely be the same case for those passages, constraining her movements. 

All at once, the answer hit her: The garden! Although she’d never entered it except through the castle, the area around it had largely been cleared. It was close enough to the mountain pass as well that she might just have a chance to escape before Moonjumper caught on to the unorthodox route.

She was already on alert as a third quake shook the walls, dust spiraling from breaks in the rock. The step beneath her began to tremble and she hooked onto another sconce to swing to safety before it could collapse. From there, she didn’t know where in the palace she’d ended up.

It didn’t take long for Moonjumper to find her once again though. Soon enough, red eyes painted the walls and turned towards her. “There you are!” echoed his voice throughout the hall. His strings also reappeared, weaving across the space. Hat Kid veered through the chaotic web to reach the other side. A slab of stone rising from the ground attempted to block her way, but she was prepared for it this time—jumping up to race over it’s lip without stopping. 

Another corner turned led her close to the dining room, which should have been on the opposite side of the castle. All other chambers were sealed except for the one’s heavy double-doors, and as she passed by the child couldn’t resist sparing a curious glance inside. At the cost of a faltering second, it gave her a bit of notice as a wave of flying platters, cups, and saucers rushed out to give chase. One threw itself at her head and she cried out, shielding herself as it shattered in an explosion of ceramic shards to her right. 

All she could do was keep running with the objects in hot pursuit. Maybe it was her imagination, but the hall seemed to stretch, looping on and on for the longest while. Dishes continued to launch themselves at her, one nearly striking her in the head and others crashing to the floor just after each step. Small pieces nipped the back of her legs, urging her onward. 

Eventually, a plate slid under one of her feet, tripping her up. Unable to pull herself back, Hat Kid fell in a forward roll, landing hard on the ground. They didn’t let up, shattering over her as she covered her head before flipping around, batting at them with her umbrella, and them opening it up as an improvised shield. Fortunately, there weren’t too many left to throw themselves at her. She regained her footing as soon as possible, backing away with her weapon extended until the attack had stopped. 

Unbeknownst to her, the floor behind her had fallen away. Her eyes widened in horror as she slipped and fell, twisting her body through the air to smack against the side of the newly carved pit, ricochet from its opposing end, and scramble back out. No sooner had she made it, Moonjumper faded in through one of the walls.

“Impressive…” he murmured in a flat tone. Then he motioned to either side of the hall to seal them just as he had the stairwell before. “But I’m getting impatient.”

There was no restraint this time, now that she had made it clear that she could actually fight back. Moonjumper lashed out at her with his strings, clawing the air as they sailed toward her in a wide arc. Hat Kid flung herself as far as she could to the right, then swiftly back as the next hand of cords tried to strike from above. All the while, their battle was watched over by a multitude of eyes.

Seeing an opening, the child dove forward only for the phantom ruler to temporarily halt his onslaught with another wave of his hand in an upward motion. Hat Kid gasped as the floor shot up from under her, knocking the wind out of her lungs as she was flung toward the ceiling, then brutally struck back down again with another blow of stone from above. A moment’s incapacitation was all it took for him to launch his strings toward her yet again, ensnaring her ankle in a painful hold and dragging her toward him along the floor. She kicked against the earth, but it was too smooth a surface to gain much traction and he was too strong!

With a hardened gaze, she allowed herself to be pulled into arm’s reach only to lash out at him at the last moment with her umbrella yet again—striking him in the arm. She then quickly twisted her body around to reach inside her bag for her brewer hat, clamping her hand around a vial of potion and chucking it at him. At that range, there was no chance of dodging it. Still close enough herself to get swept in the eruption that followed, the girl grit her teeth. However, at the feeling of the now severed cords giving away at her leg, she quickly retreated, beads of sweat collecting at her head.

The hallway hadn’t opened back up yet. Before the smoke could clear, another series of threads launched out at her once more. She fell back yet again to evade them only to hear a clatter from behind. A risky glance over her shoulder revealed another, smaller wave of dishes soaring from the dining room to her back. With a panicked leap, she moved aside to avoid them. 

The scene was getting more chaotic and the space no wider to move through. The eyes to either side of her began aiming their own cords her way, firing through the air. A trio of them suspended in taut, horizontal lines that cut toward her like the blades of a bandsaw. She dodged them in succession: Double-jumping across the first pair and then tossing herself over the third. 

This also helped her close the distance between her and Moonjumper a second time as he recovered from the blast. Still air-born, she swung her umbrella at his face. He was more cautious this time though and avoided her attack by reeling away. Twisting around to follow where she landed, he weaved his strings like a kind of web and sent it soaring across the hall.

No way around it, Hat Kid chose a gap in the mesh and dove through, this time managing to hit Moonjumper as she neared. He released a harsh grunt as the blow swiped his mask unevenly to one side. She didn’t give him the chance to recover, already turned around by the time the stone cleared away for the same indigo haze as before. Without hesitation, she slipped down her Dweller mask and passed through it.

The ground rumbled beneath her and she braced herself for whatever obstacles came next: Another, stretched expanse of hall—this time with parts of the architecture gravelly distorted. Sections of the floor were ripped out and large bricks were frozen in the air. There was a massive crater toward the far end of it, and she quickly leapt up some of the suspended rock to hook on a chandelier and fly to the other side.

In what felt like the first piece of luck she’d had in a while, Hat Kid finally outpaced the changing environment. She was a floor above the garden, but she could see it right outside! Without hesitating, she ran onto the balcony above it before she could get locked in. 

There was a tangle of flowers growing along the wall. Flipping herself over the balustrade, she climbed down the mess of foliage like a ladder. Halfway down, however, she began to feel its vines start to coil around her arms and legs and fell back in surprise. She avoided capture, but the landing was rough, and when she raced down the steps that led to the garden, they suddenly sloped beneath her. She slid down the rest of the way, landing in a heap on her hands and knees.

Moonjumper reappeared yet again, the calm in his voice beginning to break. “Are you having fun? Or are you losing your breath?” he sneered, arms raised beside him like daggers, “Because I, for one, getting _tired_ of this game! In fact, I’m starting to think we should put you to _rest!”_

Her eyes widened as red threads began to coil across everything. She’d thought being out in the open would’ve given her more of an advantage, but the ghost used every surface for his cords to latch onto until they hung like a strong netting over their surroundings. And then he drew them in—they swarmed her from all sides!

There was no time to think: Hat Kid just ran for the nearest mess of cords before the opening between them could close. It nearly did. She braced her arms to cover her face and attempt to push back against them as she leapt through, hissing through her teeth as they stung her skin from beneath her clothes when she scraped past them. The back of her uncovered hands bloomed a fiery red from the pain.

A second attack followed from the left. Hat Kid scrambled to dodge, rolling a meter before springing up from the ground to thrust herself over them. Each strike following after that was just as relentless, leaving her on the defense. Worse still was that she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer.

It probably didn’t matter how hard she hit him: Thanks to the effects of Snatcher’s potion, he could know pain, but—being dead—he wouldn’t exhaust himself like a normal person did. As she was beginning to… She didn’t need to beat him. She needed to push him back just enough for her to make a final break for it!

His mask—as far as she knew for now, his mask was his biggest weakness! Or at least a good enough distraction. For several minutes, she continued to surge through the tangle of cords until she got close to the phantom. The moment she was within range, she jumped up and struck him across the head with all of her might. The mask initially stayed, but the blow delayed him enough for her to move in and grab it. 

A shout of fearful rage left him as she stole his prize away yet again. Narrowly avoiding the claw-like swipe of his hands in turn, she just threw it as far as she could in the other direction and ran! Moonjumper had two choices: Go after her or reclaim the mask first. Of course, he chose the latter.

That didn’t mean she could rest easy. If anything, he was probably even more infuriated than he already was. The scary thought gave her an additional boost as she tore through the garden and jumped over its borders. Her feet skid in untended, unbalanced earth, spurring a cloud of dust behind her as she bolted away. 

From there, Hat Kid didn’t stop until she was on the other side of the ravine. Her heart hammered against the confines of her ribcage, and another worrisome issue rose to mind. Where was she supposed to go after that?! It was impossible for her to reach the Goat’s territory the same way she initially found Moonjumper’s. She still remembered how the Dwellers had found their way into the Horizon—an entrance that would spirit her off to the Subcon Forest instead of the Alpine Skyline. However, she also remembered the spiders that inhabited the woods surrounding it. Even if she were in any shape to fight them, there would be too many.

She kept running. Even if she got herself lost, it was better than stalling herself and waiting to get caught by Moonjumper again. If she could just find someplace safe to hide, just long enough for her to regain her stamina, she could think of a way out. 

She jumped, spotting movement along the edge of her sight. To both her astonishment and relief, however, it was none other than two of the spectral goats. The first time she’d ever come across them, they’d made her uneasy. She had only just gotten over all of Subcon’s horrors and didn’t know what to make of them. Now though—standing silent, but proud and strong, motioning for her to come to them—they came across as saviors. 

Mind still frazzled by panic, she couldn’t help the suspicion that rose within her. Why were they here? After all this time, she’d never once seen any of them close to the ghost town. Not long after the question formed in her head though, the sky brightened a bit. The girl looked up and found a friend staring back at her: The pendulum-wielding celestial spirit, who had another familiar face painting the Horizon’s deep void alongside them. 

The second spirit was none other than the Founder Goat from the Alpine Skyline’s storybook, although it looked a little different from his counterpart, alluding to his mortal origins. Whereas the other celestial spirits were made completely from the stars as living constellations, the goat had smaller patterns detailed along his translucent, violet body. His horns were shaped in the same geometric pattern she’d seen only once before, and his eyes shown just as brightly as any heavenly orb. Like others of his kind, he was difficult to read, but it was a friendly face all the same.

The young alien remembered something Moonjumper had told her, about the celestial spirits sometimes acting as guiding forces in the lives of mortals. Had they sent the goats to come help her? She was more than grateful, but again she wondered why? Maybe it didn’t matter. What did was that she was safe at last.

Hat Kid looked back across the ravine one last time before following them. At this distance, everything still looked so beautiful, the forest, the town, the palace… Now that she could relax somewhat, she felt a bit sad that she had to go like this. She wished she could’ve done more to help the ghosts that lived there—Moonjumper included. However, there was nothing for her to do now except carry on her mission and hope for better days to come, when none of them would be weighed down by the pain of their memories and the chains of the past. 


	28. Epilogue

Snatcher didn’t take well to the news.

He didn’t react much as she recounted her trip to the Horizon, but she could tell how it bothered him by the way his yellow eyes narrowed into slits and how tightly he gripped the arm of his chair in one hand. Whatever he said or however the Dwellers thought of him, he did still care about them. As she expected, hearing that so many were trapped in the spiritual realm—many with their memories distorted—was infuriating.

Hat Kid watched in silence as he raked a single, clawed finger across the chair’s fabric in deep thought, his brow furrowed. She hadn’t even brought up Moonjumper himself, or at least their relationship as two halves of Subcon’s prince. Even if he believed her at all, the fates of the Dwellers were enough to upset him for now. Besides, it was possible they didn’t even know about each other yet at all and she wanted to sort out the facts first herself. Beyond that, she felt like she could trust everything else to him.

Which was why it was so jarring when the shadow regained controlled of himself and snapped shut the book in his lap with his free hand, exclaiming with a lax shrug, “Welp! Nothing we can do about it!”

He may as well have smacked her. The young alien stood still, mouth slightly agape, as Snatcher then rose from his seat and glided over to the dresser across from him, stowing the text away on one of the higher shelves and looking over his collection for another. _Nothing we can do…_ If _anyone_ could do something, it’d be him! They were _his_ people and he was strong enough to take on Moonjumper on an even playing field! 

Once she recovered from her shock, she shook her head and turned to him, a bit angry herself, “What do you mean?! Of course we can do _something!_ We _have_ to!”

He barely gave her a cursory glance over his shoulder, “Look, kid, a spiritual realm is no joke. You should know that by now. If some of my Dwellers were dumb enough to go in one, that’s on them. I don’t care who’s running it or what kind of nightmare it is.”

“You’re lying!” she barked, but he didn’t flinch. 

Instead, he continued as if she said nothing, “You said they’re happy, right? Completely oblivious, maybe, but happy. That should be enough for you, so get over it.” He ended the matter there. “And get out while you’re at it. Unless you plan on handing over that soul of yours, you’re the last company I want around.”

He _was_ lying though. He had to be… Nevertheless, it didn’t seem like any amount of words would let her reason with him. Not to mention she was tired. 

It had only been a little more than a day since she’d made it back to the mortal world. Within that period, she’d vaulted the Horizon’s Time Pieces, tended to her injuries from her fight with Moonjumper, bought tickets for a cruise liner, and prepared everything she’d need for the voyage. Since there wasn’t enough time to visit a different part a world before then, she wanted to rest up while she had the chance. She only dropped down to Subcon to inform him of everything.

She would’ve thought it had been a mistake if it weren’t for the fact that—as she climbed across the limb bridging the moat surrounding his tree—she looked back and saw that he wore as troubled an expression as ever. Whether he would save the Dwellers before she left this planet for her own, she knew that she could trust him to do so. He wasn’t the callous villain he tried to be, and those few seconds were yet another moment he’d let his own mask slip.

With a sigh, she continued on her way through the forest. She just wanted to explore it for a little while before she returned to her ship. After nearly losing her memories of the place, she wanted to make sure all of them were still there. As always, the forest was shrouded in its usual miasma. Snatcher’s minions hid in the darkness, working their mischief against one another or laying out traps for their employer’s hapless victims. One of them—at least for the time being—had replaced her as the mail carrier and was busy rushing from place to place to deliver his burdens to the others. 

She glad that she still recognized most of them. Although the minions did look the same overall, one could find subtle differences in size and shape. Beyond that, each carried their own quirks as individuals and some even accessorized to set themselves apart even further. For example, there was the studious minion Hat Kid now approached, crossing the village over to one of the small, fenced-off graveyards where he sat on a tombstone with a book in his hands, much like Snatcher himself. This one was a bit taller than the others, and he took better care of himself, his plush form always fairly clean with few tears or patches. The only noticeable damage from its long use was a single, scar-like stitch that ran up his left calf, and it wouldn’t have surprised her to learn that the body he possessed was same one he’d initially been given after his death. 

Although their vocal mannerisms were fairly similar to each other as well, he was much more soft-spoken and had always been helpful. At the beginning, he’d teased her as the ‘newbie’ just as much as the rest of them, but had also been much more patient, sharing tricks to best navigate through the wood or how to fend off against some of its dangers. The girl greeted him wave and a shout, bringing him to attention.

“Ah! Hey there, kid!” he called back, looking up from his reading, “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you again, not after that crazy fight with that Mustached Girl anyway.” He then muttered to himself, “Still kind of feels like it was all just a fever dream…”

Being warped to and from a manipulated timeline would easily feel like that… “I’m just passing through,” she said, then continued after a moment’s reluctance, “Actually, I wanted to ask you something. Do you think anything would’ve been different if the prince was still around?” 

The minion seemed to blink at her in mild surprise, humming at her question curiously, “Why do you care about _him_ …?”

She covered for herself, “I saw paintings of him that time Snatcher sent me into Vanessa’s manor. He’s not around anymore, is he?”

Although she’d never brought it up before, it must’ve been a sore subject. Why wouldn’t it be, dredging back things from when they were alive and the struggles they suffered both during and after their passing? At this point, however, she felt like she had to know what their true thoughts were on the prince. She’d dismissed it before, just accepting Snatcher’s hidden identity as his means of coping with all that happened. After meeting Moonjumper though, she couldn’t as easily, not when it showed another side to things and how deeply both of their actions affected so many people. 

“Well, no. No, he’s not…” he shook his head, then sighed, “I was pretty little when I… when the storm hit, so I don’t remember much.” He paused again thoughtfully before adding, “I remember he was almost always smiling, but I don’t think smiles would’ve helped us. Who needs a prince though, right? I mean… We’ve got enough problems with that ice queen!” 

Hat Did didn’t respond at first, disappointed by the answer. Right: Most of the Dwellers and minions still around the forest were kids like her when they died. Even though the royal families seemed to be active among their people, they probably didn’t have too many strong opinions on them anyway—not for how they were as leaders. Smiles, walks through the village, small greetings, festivals… Ice and snow, pain and suffering, fear and despair. These were the kinds of things connected to Subcon’s crowns. And anyone that could really give her a good, honest response was likely a world away without the mind to know it.

As if seeing the thoughts that weighed on her shoulders, his voice turned sympathetic, “Kid… are you ok? Did the boss say something to you?”

She shook her head. She might’ve been willing to tell Snatcher about the Horizon, but the minions were another story. What would they even think of it? Some of them might’ve even had family members were over there. It wasn’t that she felt like that didn’t have a right to now, but the idea of what they might do worried her. Maybe they’d try to save the others themselves or maybe they’d see Moonjumper as a lesser of two evils, still harboring suspicion against Snatcher’s intentions even after all these years. Either way, she didn’t want to think of the danger they could put themselves in because of that information. 

If Snatcher bothered to tell them at some point, well… Surely, he’d be smart enough to make that judgement. As for her, she’d remain cautious and silent. “I just wanted to know,” she replied, “Thank you. For another weird question though, do you remember when I went to the Firelands?”

He nodded.

“I saw baby fire spirits there. Apparently, they’re reborn after they burn up from their dances. Sometimes they even split apart and make more of themselves that way, rising from the ashes. So, I got to thinking… Do you think that could happen to a ghost too?”

It was a small theory she had developed over the course of the day, the more she thought about Snatcher’s and Moonjumper’s divided existences. Spirits were entirely separate beings whose bodies and souls were united as one, and each species seemed to work differently, so she didn’t question it for them as much. For a mortal, however, a soul held just about everything they were, making it harder for her to imagine how it could break in two.

Despite the heavy, unknown context of her second question, the minion took to it with great interest. His tone brightened as he mused over it himself, “I’ve never seen that happen before, but I don’t think it’d be impossible. I guess it would have to happen when you died though.”

“How?”

“Well, the way I see it, do you ever have those times when you _really_ argue with yourself? Like there’s another you in your head, who fights with you about what you should do and what kind of person you should be?” the minion raised his hands in simple gestures as he explained his own thoughts, looking down at them as if getting swept up in the idea, “I think a soul could split apart because of something like that. Strong emotions people leave behind can take a life of their own—that’s how miasma is created—so maybe something that powerful could make a new person, two parts of who they were tugging back and forth until their souls just… snaps!”

“Do you think there’s any way they could… fit back together?”

“Hmm, probably not. After that, they’d probably exist as two separate beings, sharing some of the same memories—like the fire spirits.”

Hat Kid didn’t know whether to feel relieved about that or not. As much as she personally didn’t like the idea of her own soul breaking like that, she liked both Snatcher and Moonjumper as individuals. Maybe, in a way, they were both the prince, but she could accept that neither of them had to be the ‘true’ prince as well—at least if it meant that neither of them would have to vanish because of the other. 

Maybe she just had to accept the people they’d become, apart of who they used to be. Snatcher, the part of the prince that chose to move forward from tragedy by hardening himself against the world. Moonjumper, the part of the prince who fought to preserve the good in himself by dismissing all the hardship that would otherwise threaten it. Neither of them was in the right, but maybe someday, they’d both heal.

It wasn’t hard to say goodbye. After she’d left him with the theory, the minion latched onto it and ran off to start his own investigation. He didn’t need her incentive: He was just that curious and had all the time in his long afterlife to spend on research. Hat Kid visited a few more places, then at last returned to her ship.

* * *

She’d been ignoring her messages for a while now. No sooner had she boarded, she heard the communicator blare loudly across the main deck. Cooking Cat was probably done on the planet’s surface: If she wasn’t, then she’d likely have muted the sound and let the call go. Now, it was free to ring as much as it pleased. The girl didn’t know how long it’d been going for, but long enough for Rumbi to scoot over to her side and tap her leg as if _pleading_ with her to make it stop.

It was a good thing it was only her and the robot around. After all, she couldn’t ignore it forever…

Cringing as she approached the console, Hat Kid plopped down within the captain’s chair and took a deep breath. A full, half-minute later, she accepted the call. She was glad they couldn’t see her face, but the voice piercing through the speaker was as stern as always. Luckily though, the feminine alto wasn’t as harsh as it had come across in the Horizon’s visions:

“So, you finally answer! What’s taking you so long, cadet?” it demanded, “Your report’s overdue. _You’re_ overdue. What’s your status? I want to know _exactly_ how the repairs are coming along and when you expect to be back.”

Bracing herself against the back of her chair, she held her own against the interrogation-styled speech. It was one of her instructors, a fellow clocksmith. On her planet, they were the ones responsible for keeping the Time Pieces safe. There was no way she could ever have told them how she’d lost hers.

So, she’d lied. After she’d gotten the first Time Piece back and when the first call and come in demanding where she was, she said that her ship had been damaged when she stopped over Earth’s surface to resupply. It was an older model: She knew her ship was in good shape, but that kind of thing was to be expected. They believed her, and she bought herself a little time.

Only a little though, the longer the weeks wore on, the more excuses she had to make. Another system malfunctioned. She needed replacement parts or materials that were hard to find on Earth. When she discovered the massive Time Piece in Subcon, it had been like a grace from God: Her overseers were _very_ interested in its state and had opted to leave her a while longer in return for whatever observations she recorded about it. It meant doing a little homework, but it was worth it. Everything was starting to catch up to her though, and she still didn’t have all of the Time Pieces.

She forced a grin in own voice, “Everything is fine. The repairs are going well, and my report should come in any day now.” Thankfully, the mail room hadn’t needed much energy and she was able to access it early on. “I’m still having a little trouble with the main engine. I’ve checked over the blueprints, and I think I know how to get the parts I need. I just need a couple more weeks to find it, and I should be on my way home!”

She hoped it’d only be a couple more weeks…

“It’s been over _three months_ since you were stranded!” The voice barked back, clearly displeased. Hat Kid stiffened anxiously, “Now’s not the time to act independent! You’re still a kid, and your other instructors and I didn’t even want you going on your mission to begin with!” Her words stung. “If you weren’t a good pilot—and if we weren’t so short-handed—we wouldn’t have…

“We’re someone to rescue you and help finish the repairs. They should be headed for your location by the end of day.”

Her heart leapt in her throat. It took Hat Kid every ounce of control not to shout out in refusal, but if she did, the woman on the line was bound to be suspicious. Whoever they sent though would likely be a professional, or at least an upperclassman. Not only would they refuse to let her out of their sight, they’d catch on to the truth the moment they were onboard.

She thought quick, but was still unable to fully restrain her nerves, “Send Bow!”

There was some hesitation before the other clocksmith echoed the name in a dubious tone, “Bow?”

Bow was more than another, young clocksmith: She was one of Hat Kid’s closest friends—and about the only one who wouldn’t reveal her mistake to their higherups. The woman already knew about the two girls’ bond, but Hat Kid of course didn’t feel like revealing her real reasoning to her. Instead, she explained, “Bow’s a great engineer, and this way you won’t have to send anyone important to come get me.”

There was another long pause. Hat Kid bit the inside of her cheek. Likely, the other was scrolling through rounds of data, taking the time to consider her recommendation. Even with that hopeful thought, the seconds were agonizing.

At last, there was a long sigh, “You’re lucky you two are at the top of your classes… Fine then: We’ll send Bow.”

Hat Kid could hardly believe her luck…

“It should take her a few days to get you to by light sloop, but it’s the quickest we can do. Contact me as soon as she arrives.”

 _Take all the time you need, Bow…_ the child whispered in her head. She felt bad for dragging her into this, but she didn’t know what else to do! 

The call ended as suddenly as it had begun, the elder hardly dismissing her with the briefest of goodbyes before she cut the line. Only after Hat Kid had switched the communicator off, making sure it was muted, did she sink back and allow the tension that had risen in her shoulders to leave her.

She stared out at the void of space and the planet below. For all that it put her through, it really was a wonderful world. She was going to miss it when the time came to depart for her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for reading this and I hope you enjoyed! Since many of you who read this have also follow some of my others works for AHIT, you’ll be happy to know that I’m continuing this series! As of now, two or three other large installments are planned; however, for the time being, I’m going to take a little break. Not only do I want to spend some time on a few different projects, I’d also like to continue exploring a couple of ideas through oneshots—like in my ‘Tales of the Fire Spirits’ series—and other small fics, as some of their elements will play a part in the bigger ones later on.   
> Also, whereas The Horizon and The Firelands can be read largely independent of one other, these next big stories will follow a sequence taking place after both of them, so if you missed the latter, please read that in advance. When I started working on these, I never thought I’d continue them as I have, but it’s been a fun experience, exploring so many different ideas with this fandom. I hope you all can look forward for more to come!


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